


Within the Confines of Such Chemistry

by PrettyLittlePoutyMouth



Series: Chemistry and Consecrations [1]
Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Muscle Worship, Nude Modeling, Phone Sex, Strap-Ons, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 22:46:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6258778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyLittlePoutyMouth/pseuds/PrettyLittlePoutyMouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maura wants to explore her kinks, and enlists her reluctant best friend to help. Canon compliant through Season 5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Now I've hit the mark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kbs_was_here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kbs_was_here/gifts).



> Thanks to kabensi for laughing, beta-ing, and researching with me throughout the process of writing this fic.

“Ugh, Maura. Turn it off,” Jane griped, reaching past Maura in a lunge for the remote. Maura merely held the remote out of her reach and blinked interestedly at the television for a few more seconds before navigating away. “That’s better,” Jane sighed.

Maura looked at her curiously. She thought they’d been enjoying Chelsea Handler’s new series, the first episode of which explored marriage and the many permutations thereof. Jane had certainly seemed invested, and they’d laughed a lot together. It had been almost a year since Jane had rejected Casey’s marriage proposal, and since then, she seemed to share Maura’s benign ambivalence about marriage—a viewpoint Chelsea Handler projected as well.

“Were you not enjoying the show?” Maura asked, surprised and a little disappointed.

“Not… _that_ part,” Jane growled, taking a swig of her beer. She shook her head and drew her hand across her mouth. “Sorry. We can continue, but just…can we skip that part?”

Maura thought back, and it dawned on her. She hadn’t thought much about it, but Jane had made her turn off the scene in which two women described being sister-slaves to their Sir, in a BDSM triad. She regarded Jane quietly for a moment, “The BDSM part?”

Jane shuddered, “Those women, talking about having to ask permission to even eat? No, that’s disgusting. I don’t need to see that.”

“It appears to be mutually pleasurable to all involved,” Maura offered.

“That’s…fine. It’s fine. They can do what they want, but I don’t want to think about it,” Jane rambled.

“Perhaps you’d have found it more palatable if the dominant had been female?” Maura said, a little slyly. Jane was always so weirdly _demure_ about sex, Maura did like to push her every once in awhile.

In reply, Jane just laughed, “That doesn’t offend me so much, but I still can’t take it seriously. I mean, a guy on his knees obeying his woman is just…sad, you know?”

“I don’t know about that. Some people find power exchange to be very freeing.”

“ _I_ don’t,” Jane responded firmly.

Now Maura regarded her with interest, picking up her wine glass and turning toward Jane on the couch. Jane still hadn’t made eye contact with her during this whole discussion about BDSM, which intrigued Maura greatly. “Are you speaking from experience?” she asked.

Jane laughed again, a sharp sound, but didn’t answer, just polished off her beer and rose from the couch to get another.

“Oh, come on,” Maura turned further to watch Jane walk to the fridge. “I’ll share if you do,” she put a hint of seduction in her tone, and watched the involuntary smile emerge on Jane’s face.

Jane flopped back down on the couch, still avoiding eye contact, but she shifted so that she was at least mostly facing Maura now. “I already told you,” she mumbled, “Basically, anyway.”

Maura thought for a long moment, and then it came to her. “Ah,” she smiled triumphantly, “The two types you date.”

“Yeah,” Jane confirmed with a touch of bitterness. “Type two: the ones who just want me to use the handcuffs.”

Maura settled back against the couch in satisfaction, “So, what happened?”

Jane sighed, “Usually when I realize that’s what they’re after, it’s over. But there was one time I gave it a try. I was…I dunno. Desperate, I guess.” Maura nodded encouragingly, keeping her eyes on Jane as she sipped her wine. Jane was working on peeling the label off her beer as she spoke. “So…I tried it. Handcuffed him, and he was happily on his knees ready to obey my every whim. He…wanted me to threaten him with my gun. Unloaded, of course,” she added quickly, catching Maura’s eye. “And I just…I couldn’t do it. I felt stupid, and disgusted by him. I kicked him out before we really got anywhere.” She shook her head and pushed her hair out of her eyes. “That’s how I know it’s not for me.”

Maura digested the information over another sip of wine, watching the way Jane continued to awkwardly pick at her beer label, until she finally looked up and gestured at Maura, “All right, your turn,” she said quickly.

Maura nodded and spoke calmly. “For me, I suppose, it was better in theory than in practice. I’ve always enjoyed a bit of light power play—being held down, and I’ve been tied up a couple of times.”

Jane snorted, interrupting. “You? Submissive?” But it wasn’t disgust in her eyes.

Maura shrugged, “As I said, power exchange can be freeing. Besides, I’ve tied up a lover before as well. But once I was seeing a guy who was really into it, and it sounded hot when he talked about it, but the practice was how I realized that for me it doesn’t go much beyond a little fun restraining. I couldn’t call him ‘Master’ without laughing. And I’m not into obedience or pain. He was. It didn’t last.”

Jane looked a little sour at her words, and shook her head. “You _let_ him—” she started.

“I _didn’t_ let him, Jane. That was the point. I wasn’t into it.” Maura spoke clearly, waiting for Jane’s discomfort to pass, which it slowly did at her words. Jane sagged back into the couch cushions as if in relief.

“Geez,” she shook her head.

“There’s plenty of scientific evidence that kink is very healthy,” Maura informed her, “BDSM may not be for me beyond bondage, but there are other things I’ve always wanted to try.”

Jane took a long swig of beer. “I need to be _so_ much more drunk for this conversation,” she muttered.

Maura laughed, “Come on. I’ve heard it’s relatively common for best friends to discuss sex.”

“Yeah, but like, probably not usually in this detail,” Jane frowned over her beer thoughtfully, “I don’t think, anyway.”

“You don’t know either!” Maura pointed an accusatory finger. “You’re just trying to avoid the topic because sex makes you uncomfortable.”

“Am not!” Jane protested, shifting forward on the couch. “Fine,” she leaned back again with forced calm, “Fine, we can talk about it. I’m…totally down with talking about it.” She nodded, took another healthy gulp of her beer.

Maura grinned widely, “This will be fun. Okay, so, I’ve always been interested in retifism.”

“Which is?” Jane asked impatiently.

“It’s a subset of foot fetishism, specifically—”

“Eww, Maura. Feet are…just gross.”

“Not just feet. You didn’t let me finish. Shoes.”

“You have a shoe fetish?” Jane asked, then chuckled, “I guess I shouldn’t be that surprised.”

“I don’t know if I’d consider it a paraphilia of mine. I’m merely interested in exploring it.”

“Well, it’s a definite ‘no’ for me. Next?”

“What about shibari?” When Jane just gave her a look and polished off her beer, Maura clarified, “Japanese rope bondage?”

“What makes it different from regular bondage?” Jane asked, getting up a little unsteadily to get another beer.

“Oh, it’s much more artistic. Here, let me show you.”

Jane whipped her head around in surprise, but relaxed as she realized Maura was heading to the bookshelf. She rejoined Maura on the couch and poured her friend some more wine as Maura opened the book.

“See?” she asked, turning pages of photographs of people, mostly women, dangling from or supine in restraints. “Much more artistic than the typical trussed-up-like-a-turkey look you see in most Western bondage.”

“Um. Yeah. Very artistic.” Jane’s eyes lingered on the photographs, though her brows were pulled together, perhaps in discomfort.

“Anyway,” Maura closed the book and placed it on the coffee table, picking back up her wine. “I would need a lot of time to practice such a thing, and ultimately, it may not be practical for me to learn. Still, it’s fascinating.”

“Fascinating,” Jane repeated neutrally.

Maura thought for a moment as she took a sip of wine, then said, “How do you feel about medical play?”

Jane coughed a little on her beer. “Like, playing doctor?” she asked.

“It’s usually more involved than that and may involve medical instruments, such as a speculum in an orifice.” Jane looked disgusted and a little puzzled. “I tried it once for a guy I was dating, but honestly, it was too similar to my job. I didn’t enjoy it.”

“Did he see you in your black scrubs? Because that’s probably why he wanted to do it. You somehow manage to make those look really good.” Jane looked away, turning the bottle around in her hand as if she’d never read its label before.

“Thank you,” Maura smiled broadly at the compliment. “Perhaps if it were just the look, it would be fun, no?”

Jane just shrugged in response, still looking at the bottle.

“What about narratophilia? I’d like to try that someday.”

Jane squinted, “What is that, like, sexy storytelling?”

“Good guess!” Maura inclined her head graciously, “But no. I believe the colloquial term is ‘dirty talk.’”

“Oh,” Jane’s eyes were a little wide, and she laughed, “Yeah, I don’t think I could ever do that one.”

“No?” Maura frowned, “I’ve heard the concept is quite simple. You just talk about what you’re doing to the person and what you want to do to them. Such as, ‘I’m going to push you up against the wall and slide my fingers into your…’” Maura considered her words for a moment. Vaginal canal? Pussy? Warm, pulsing—

Jane, however, interrupted her considerations with a, “No! No, no, you don’t need to finish that sentence. I get the concept, Maura.”

“Why did you interrupt me? Was that effective? Ineffective?” Maura was genuinely interested in feedback, as off the cuff as her sentence had been.

“I just didn’t need to hear any more.”

“Fair enough. Perhaps hamartophilia would resonate with you?”

Jane snorted, “I like bacon, but not enough to want to cover my body with it or whatever ham art is supposed to mean.”

“It is an arousal tied to committing acts you consider to be sinful.”

Jane chuckled, once. “So, being Catholic? Yeah, I’d say pretty much everything I do is sexy ham art, then.”

“Hamartophilia,” Maura corrected again, but she was smiling. “You’d have to enjoy the acts _because_ they’re sinful though, not otherwise.”

“Who says that isn’t part of the thrill?” Jane smirked, sipped her drink. Then she tilted her head to the side, “I mean, sometimes there’s not much else to enjoy about sex than the taboo, you know?”

Maura looked at her curiously. “I don’t know about _that_ ,” she answered. “I think I’ve enumerated several things I find interesting about sex. In addition, if it could be ethically done, ecouteurism.”

“Wait, wait, don’t tell me!” Jane held her palms out, a precarious hold on her beer. She stifled a laugh into her fist, then tried to straighten her face. “That’s obviously a kink for cooters!” She dissolved into laughter.

Maura stared, pressing her lips together to keep from laughing with Jane. “I don’t think that would count as a paraphilia, per se, it’s more someone’s sexual identity,” she attempted to explain, but gave up, shaking her head and laughing with Jane.

They settled back against the couch as their laughter died down, smiling at each other as they both took a long sip of their drink. Maura licked her lips and regarded Jane over the rim of her wineglass. “There’s also sthenolagnia,” she said softly, “That interests me very much.”

“What’s that?” Jane asked, the words running together a bit. She swallowed, maintained eye contact, “Sounds like a dinosaur.”

“The colloquial term is muscle worship,” Maura’s lips quirked as she watched Jane’s eyebrows tick upward, “I believe it’s most common among homosexual men, and typically involves one man watching the other man flex for his erotic benefit. Sometimes there’s very little sexual contact between the men themselves. And obviously, as I can attest, it’s not exclusively a paraphilia among homosexual men.”

“I see,” Jane said tonelessly, then scowled abruptly, “Wait, is that why you’re always picking up gym rats?”

“Excuse me, I haven’t dated a guy I met at the gym in a long time. And also, if you’ll notice, none of them were really that beefy. I’m not really attracted to very muscular men.”

“But…you just said you were into muscle worship,” Jane deadpanned, looking at her as if she’d maybe lost her mind.

“Yes. However, what I find appealing is muscles on a feminine form.”

“Muscular…girls, er, women, like…” Jane trailed off.

“Yes, like…” Maura reached out her arm. They’d somehow moved closer together as the conversation had gone on. Her hand stopped a few inches from Jane’s arm, and then Maura curled her fingers back and dropped her hand.

“Oh,” Jane said, and finished her beer. She stood up, and her wobble was more pronounced.

“There’s no need to be ashamed,” Maura stood, too, following Jane to the kitchen. “You have an exquisite form, and I’m merely admiring it.” Jane stopped in front of the refrigerator, leaning against the counter to steady herself, and Maura said, cautiously, “Perhaps you should slow down.”

“No. Yeah, you’re right, Maura.” She shifted her course toward the kitchen sink, pulling a cup out of the cupboard and filling it. She turned, facing Maura, as she downed the glass of water. “Sorry,” she added once she’d finished. She dropped her gaze, rolling the glass between her palms. “I overreacted. Of course there’s nothing wrong with you admiring my body. I mean, that’s the whole point of working out, so people think you look good.” She shrugged, and smiled, clearly trying for cocky.

“You _do_ look good, Jane,” Maura answered, eyes dropping to take in the strain of her t-shirt sleeve around her bicep, the obvious strength of her toned forearms.

Jane smirked and laughed, once. “So, what, would I just,” she set down the glass and struck a pose, “ _flex_ for you?”

Maura swallowed and tried to arrange her face into a relaxed expression, “That’s quite nice, thank you.” Her eyes roamed Jane’s form. She couldn’t see more than her arms, but she knew enough to imagine the rest of Jane.

Jane chuckled openly and dropped her arms. “Wow,” is all she said, shaking her head. She swept a hand through her hair and glanced at her watch. “Hey, it’s getting late, and I shouldn’t drive home. Mind if I stay here?”

“Of course,” Maura nodded. Like Jane even needed to ask. “The guest room is set up for you.” Like it always was.

“Thanks,” Jane nodded. They stared at each other for another moment, then she said, “I should really get some sleep.”

“Me, too,” Maura agreed, “It’s later than I thought.”

It wasn’t, really, but it was a reasonable time to retire. They said goodnight, and Jane headed upstairs. Maura gathered Jane’s beer bottles and rinsed out her own wineglass before heading upstairs herself.

Falling asleep, Maura reflected that Jane hadn’t really answered any questions about her own interests. Clearly, it would take more work to break through Jane Rizzoli’s prudishness.


	2. Have you ever felt so goddamn strong

Jane woke up with a dry mouth and sticky eyelids. She sat up and reached immediately for the glass of water she’d left by the bed for herself, but was happy to realize she didn’t need the painkillers she’d also left out. Not that she really expected she’d be hungover—she knew her limits—but she had drank a little more than she’d anticipated last night.

She shook her head as she got dressed in the t-shirt and sweatpants she kept in Maura’s guest room for mornings like this. What a weird night. And not a night she could really let herself think about until she’d had some coffee.

When she opened the guest room door, she immediately smelled the coffee, and eagerly made her way downstairs. Maura smiled at her as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Good morning. Coffee?”

“I’m offended that it’s even a question.”

Maura just smiled wider and pushed a steaming mug toward her as she sat down at Maura’s kitchen island. Jane took a sip, humming in pleasure.

“I’m making myself an egg white and spinach omelette, if you’d like one,” Maura offered.

Jane grimaced. “Okay, but I want egg yolks in mine. And cheese.”

Maura raised an eyebrow, half-amused. “I have feta,” she said.

Jane sighed, “Yeah, that’ll work.” With enough salt and pepper, it would probably taste like a normal-ish omelette.

Jane sipped her coffee and idly checked her phone while Maura cooked. Nothing of interest appeared to have happened overnight. She’d be working on paperwork today at work.

Maura finished the omelettes and took a seat next to Jane at the island. They didn’t talk much as they ate, aside from Maura’s scolding “Jane!” when she saw how much salt and pepper ended up on top of the omelette. Jane merely bumped Maura’s leg with her foot in response, smirking.

Jane finished her food first, and stood up to take her plate to the sink, but stopped when she noticed the coffee table. “Oh, my God, Maura. Put your crazy naked bondage book away before my mother comes up here and sees it!”

Maura looked up, but didn’t seem concerned. “Knowing your mother, she’s probably seen it by now. She knows she’s welcome to read any of my books.”

Jane rolled her eyes, leaving her plate and striding over to grab the book. “Yeah, because I’m sure she found it when she was looking for a book on…” she paused, then found the empty spot on Maura’s shelf. She grabbed the one next to it, “Shiva Sutras…how many bizarre sex manuals do you own?”

Maura shook her head and stood up, “That’s a spiritual text, not an erotic one. And don’t underestimate your mother. She has a curious mind.”

“The word you’re looking for is nosy,” Jane grunted, sliding the book back into place, abruptly sure her mother _had_ come across it and shuddering a little.

Jane headed back to the island, intending to take care of her plate, but Maura was already rinsing them both. Jane checked her watch and grimaced. “I’d better head home.” She picked up her coffee, finished off the last few gulps. “I’ll see you at work.” Jane started back upstairs to grab her clothes, but stopped on the second stair. “Thanks for breakfast,” she called back to Maura.

Maura turned, drying her hands on a towel. “Thank you for last night,” she replied cheerfully.

Jane laughed, involuntarily. She still wasn’t sure what to think of last night.

She thought about it on her way home, in the shower, on her way to work. She thought about it as she sat across the room from Korsak, and they both half-heartedly caught up on paperwork. They didn’t have an active case at the moment, which left Jane without much to distract her.

She leaned back in her chair and Googled muscle worship on her phone. She was relieved to see that most of what popped up were YouTube videos, instead of porn sites. She clicked one, muting her phone, and recoiled slightly at the sight of the insanely ripped male bodybuilder. She didn’t watch much, just enough to see that he mostly just flexed and posed, and then she closed the video and put her phone down thoughtfully.

While writing something down half an hour later, her eye strayed to the motion of the muscles in her left forearm. She flexed her forearm, eyed it critically. She was certainly not a bodybuilder. It _was_ something she enjoyed looking at, but could it be arousing? Could her body really have that kind of effect on someone? It was as baffling as it was flattering.

Around lunchtime, she threw her jacket back on and headed for the elevator, nodding to Korsak, who seemed fairly immersed in his own paperwork. On her way down to the morgue, she thought again about the night before. She shook her head, took a breath, and walked in.

“Hey,” she greeted Maura, who, clad in her black scrubs, was bent over a corpse. She regarded it with interest. “Who’s he?”

Maura blinked and straightened, “An apparent drug overdose. Martinez asked me to look into it, just to be certain.”

“Why? Anything unusual about the crime scene?” Jane asked sharply, eyes already scanning the corpse.

“No. But he allegedly hadn’t been using for a couple of months. One of the officers was familiar with him from his undercover work, so they asked for an autopsy to confirm.” Maura looked down at him sadly, “Though, if he’d not been using recently, that’s probably how he accidentally overdosed. It can happen very easily in those cases, unfortunately.”

“Anything about the body suggest foul play?” Jane asked, gripping her belt buckle and watching Maura.

“No, nothing yet. The toxicology report will confirm, but so far everything is consistent with a heroin overdose.”

“If anything comes up,” Jane started.

“You’ll be the first to know,” Maura interrupted. She eyed Jane, a smile tugging at her mouth. “Are you really that bored?”

Jane sighed, shoulders slumping a little. “No, I mean. Yes. It’s nice to have a break for a few days, but…I hate paperwork,” she whined.

“A well-organized case file can be crucial in a future investigation,” Maura offered.

“I know, I know,” Jane sighed.

“Is that why you came to visit me? Boredom?” Maura asked, bending back over the body.

“No. Well, not really. I wanted to see if you had lunch plans.” She took a breath, wondering why it felt easier to face an armed criminal than to acknowledge the conversation she’d had with her best friend last night, “And to talk about last night.”

Maura straightened back up. “Oh?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Jane rubbed at the back of her hand. “Listen, I mean…if it’s so important to you…I’ll do it.”

“You will?” Maura sounded mildly surprised. “You’ll do the shibari?”

“Oh, my God. No! The muscles thing.” She shook her head, “Where would we even do crazy rope bondage? Do you have a dungeon in your basement you’ve never told me about?”

“My basement contains nothing but my water heater,” Maura said matter-of-factly, though Jane finally noticed her smirk.

“You have a basement office!” Jane accused, smirking herself now. “Is that why you have such uncomfortable furniture? Are they fetish accessories?”

“Jane!” Maura was struggling to hide her smirk, “I would not keep fetish gear in my office. It’s inconvenient, not to mention highly unprofessional.” Jane snorted disbelievingly, but Maura just smiled openly now. “So, you’ll do the muscle worship scene?”

“Yeah. I mean. It’s not like you haven’t already seen me basically naked before. And…I can handle like…flexing for you. Besides, I think it would be difficult for you to find somebody else you could trust with this, aside from a sex worker, and I could save you money and a potential criminal record…”

Maura laughed a little, “How sweet. Though, there would be nothing necessarily illegal about hiring someone to enact a muscle worship scene, I do appreciate your concern for my financial well-being and job security.”

Jane shrugged awkwardly, folding her arms. “It just seemed really important to you, and if I can help you make it happen…I’ll do it. I mean. Assuming I’m good enough for what you want.”

“What do you mean?”

Jane spread her arms and gestured to herself, “I’m not a bodybuilder, in case you hadn’t noticed. I just, I want to make sure you’ll actually be able to enjoy the scene with me. That I’ll measure up.”

Maura was frowning, “Was I not clear last night that I think your form is exceptional? I’m not into bodybuilders, Jane, male or female. I’m into…well. Bodies like yours, for this kind of thing.”

“Okay,” Jane exhaled, “Okay.”

Maura smiled and caught her eye. “It is important to me, and I’m very grateful for your offer. Thank you, Jane.” She looked down at her corpse again. “What are you doing this weekend? Are you on call?”

“What?” Jane blinked, “Um. No. I don’t think so.”

“How does Friday night sound?”

“Friday?” Jane forced aside the swell of nerves, but found she couldn’t come up with anything to say to postpone it. “Friday’s fine.” Friday was too soon. But Jane certainly didn’t have another suggestion. If it were up to her, it’d be in thirty years, when she’d probably be decidedly less physically suited to the task.

“Great. Friday, my house.” Maura’s lip quirked and she gestured at the corpse. “Give me twenty minutes to finish up with this and we’ll do lunch.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be in your dungeon, trying to keep my appetite.”

“Please don’t call it that where one of our colleagues might hear you,” Maura called after her.

“Please, the only one here is your corpse, and he’s not telling anyone,” Jane threw Maura a cocky grin over her shoulder as she disappeared into Maura’s office, intent on finding out if she kept any erotic books in there.

 

The week passed rather slowly. She and Korsak got called to the scene of a murder/suicide and were unable to find anything to suggest it could have been something else, and they apprehended the husband of another murder victim, who confessed within twenty-four hours due to the volume of evidence against him. So even by Friday, Jane didn’t have anything work-related in the back of her mind, which was both a blessing and a curse.

At least, she couldn’t decide which it was. She figured it might be useful not to have anything hanging over her head while she tried to concentrate on doing this for Maura, but at the same time, it would’ve been nice to have something to distract her from how _weird_ she still felt about it. Even though every time she thought about it, she could rationalize it as no big deal, it still felt like a Very Big Deal, and she couldn’t shake that feeling.

It just would have been nice to be able to think about anything else for the majority of the week.

On Friday, Maura casually confirmed their plans that evening, as she brought Jane a midday cup of coffee. Jane felt exposed as she responded to Maura, hoping she sounded equally nonchalant, but doubting it.

As the day went on, she almost hoped that something would happen that would change her plans. Her mother getting sick, maybe, or VIP tickets to a Sox game falling into her lap. But she also knew that even those things couldn’t keep her from breaking her word to Maura, and that provided her with little comfort.

So after work, she went home and took a shower, then headed to Maura’s. She let herself in to find the living room empty, and then focused her attention as she heard footfalls on the stairs. She had a moment to process Maura’s bare legs before she could comprehend that Maura was wearing her robe. Which wasn’t _that_ weird; she’d worn her robe around Jane before. But the sight of it made Jane steel herself against the flutter of nervousness in her belly.

“Hey,” Jane greeted. She allowed herself to visibly notice Maura’s state of dress, which made Maura smile.

“Hey,” Maura greeted back, “Thank you so much for coming over tonight.”

“No problem,” Jane shrugged. She looked around, searching for something to say. How were they just going to… _do_ this?

“Shall we head upstairs?” Maura asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Yeah. Sure,” Jane answered. She met Maura’s eye for a moment, and then stepped decisively onto the first stair.

Maura opened the door to her bedroom and ushered Jane inside, closing the door firmly behind her. She turned and just looked at Jane for a moment, who blurted the only thing she could think of. “I Googled it.”

“Googled what?”

“Muscle worship,” Jane blew out her breath. “So you just want me to like…pose for you, right?’

Maura nodded, slightly.

“Do I need to be naked?”

Maura regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. “No, your underwear can stay on, if you’ll be more comfortable. ”

“Yeah. Not too many visible muscles under my underwear,” Jane joked feebly.

For a moment, Maura looked as though she might refute Jane’s statement, but ultimately she just said, “I’ll remain in my undergarments if you prefer, too.”

Jane frowned. She hadn’t thought much about what state of dress Maura might be in. She decided quickly that the safer option for keeping things from getting too weird in their friendship would be to at least keep some clothes on. “Yeah, that’ll work,” she swallowed, then asked in a rush, “What’s going to happen, exactly?”

Maura’s face relaxed a bit, in an expression Jane couldn’t quite name. “Well, first, you’ll take off your clothes, and then you’ll demonstrate your exceptional body by flexing and posing, and then I’ll approach you and touch your muscles.”

“Okay…” Jane said slowly. She sensed that Maura wasn’t finished describing the encounter, but figured she would be instructed further later.

She’d just shouldered off her jacket, when Maura spoke up. “Oh! And if anything happens that either of us doesn’t like, we’ll say Scalia, and pause what’s happening. It’s a universal safeword, named after the late opponent of sexual freedom—”

“I get it. Scalia,” Jane repeated, feeling a little dazed. “Okay.” She tossed her jacket onto Maura’s armchair.

As if in response, Maura turned and her robe dropped from her shoulders. She draped it over her dressing screen and then perched on her bed, scooting back to lean against her pillows. She wore simply a matching black bra and panty set, elegant but not flashy.

It felt strange to notice such things.

Maura watched her for a long moment, while Jane curled her fingers together uncertainly a few times. Finally, Maura said quietly, “You should probably continue removing your clothes.”

Jane nodded, chuckling at herself and reaching down for the hem of her shirt to pull it over her head. She shook out her hair and balled up the shirt, tossing it from hand to hand a few times. She registered Maura watching the action and tossed the shirt toward the armchair with a flick of her wrist. She untucked her undershirt and it followed her shirt over her head and tossed toward the chair.

Jane paused for a moment, watching Maura, whose eyes were now flicking all over Jane’s torso, from abs to shoulders to arms. She kicked off her shoes—she noted that Maura’s eye lingered where the shoes landed—and then her hands fell to her belt. Slightly shaky hands fumbled with the buckle, and then she was removing her pants, trying to feel clinical, detached, but it was impossible.

She kicked her jeans toward the armchair, but they didn’t really make it. She reached down to tug off her socks, then stopped and watched Maura for a moment. She didn’t pose, she didn’t flex, she just stood, in her red bikini briefs and non-matching black bra, and they looked at each other without locking eyes.

Maura was looking up and down her whole body, eyes tracing the muscles in her legs, arms, abs. Jane’s attention was captured by Maura’s hand, which was trailing fingers across Maura’s breast, idly rubbing or pinching at the nipple under the bra. As much as she knew that this was going to be _sexual_ thing for Maura, it was still somewhat surprising to witness. Jane debated for a moment about the last step, as she pulled her hair up into a messy bun, but ultimately decided that her bra might really get in the way of Maura’s enjoyment. Obstruct the lines of her shoulder muscles, perhaps. She reached around and unhooked her bra, dropping it in the general direction of the armchair.

Now Maura’s attention seemed to center, and her mouth parted in a barely audible gasp. Their eyes met, and Jane nodded once, in acquiescence of the request. And, feeling supremely ridiculous, she put her hands on her hips and flexed her body as much as she could.

Maura’s eyes roamed her body, fixating on various spots. Jane watched the tips of her fingers dip into the cup of her bra, heard her hum in pleasure.

Jane moved, slowly, extending her arm and twisting her hips to give Maura a different view. Maura’s hand was now squeezing her own breast forcefully. Jane turned mostly around and tried to stretch in a way that might accentuate her back muscles. She listened hard for the sounds of Maura’s breathing.

And it was easy. It was Jane feeling strong and powerful and natural, and watching Maura immerse herself in the sight. It was Jane doing this for Maura, and it was easy, because Maura wanted it.

Jane struck various poses for awhile, before Maura began to shift forward and off the bed. Jane turned toward her and put her hands on her hips and Maura stepped down and approached her, carefully, giving Jane time to stop her. Instead, Jane held her pose, and watched her move closer. She could see the peaks of Maura’s nipples through the fabric of her bra. Maura stepped up to her, lifting her right hand tentatively. Jane watched as the hand gently covered her tricep, and traced it. Maura’s hand felt very, very warm.

And then, it was trailing up to her neck, tracing something there, on Jane’s skin. And Maura’s left hand caught Jane’s right, and both Maura’s hands held hers, turning it, fingers delicately tracing the lines of her palm and the ridges of her scars. And then Maura’s hand trailed down her abs and stopped, and Maura knelt.

 _Scars_ , Jane realized abruptly, as Maura’s fingers gently rubbed the gunshot wound scar on Jane’s abdomen. She swallowed a little shakily as she watched Maura’s face, the clinical expression, but with a softness in her eyes.

“Thought this was supposed to be muscle worship, not scar worship,” Jane croaked.

“Just let me be a doctor for a moment,” Maura murmured, “You never let me see these.”

Jane resisted the urge to pull away, “I thought I told you I wasn’t into medical roleplay. Besides, you’re not wearing your black scrubs.”

Maura glanced up at her, smirking, “Well, next time I have you nearly naked in front of me, I’ll be sure to dress accordingly.”

 _Next time_? Jane thought with a surge of anxiety, but then she laughed. Maura’s hand flattened on her abdomen during the action.

“Your abdominal muscles are quite impressive,” Maura murmured. Jane could feel her warm breath against her skin. “The abdominis and oblique muscles are all very well defined.” Her right hand was moving gently all over Jane’s stomach and sides, pressing, tracing, circling at different parts.

“Thank you,” Jane answered uncertainly.

Maura’s hands slid upward as she rose to her feet, ghosting past Jane’s breasts to settle just below her collarbones. She massaged the area for a moment, and then her fingers traced up to the muscles from Jane’s neck to her shoulder. “Wow. Your trapezius,” her fingers curled around behind Jane’s shoulders, her right hand following the muscle behind Jane’s shoulder and continuing on to her arm. “Your deltoid is so firm,” Maura nearly whispered in her ear. Jane wasn’t sure whether she should thank her again, so she just swallowed, and kept silent.

Maura’s left hand moved lightly over Jane’s chest to join her right in slowly stroking Jane’s upper arm. She took her time, not speaking, as her hands caressed Jane’s skin. Jane had been posing rigid for so long that it was starting to become uncomfortable, but she stayed still, flexing as hard as she could for Maura.

Maura’s hands slid down to Jane’s forearm and she lifted Jane’s hand off her waist. Jane extended her arm, pretending to hold a gun to keep her muscles flexed. Maura hummed appreciatively. “Every muscle in your arm is just exquisite. Your extensor digitorum, your extensor carpis, your brachioradialis, your flexor carpis…” Maura trailed off. Jane wanted to laugh, wanted to remind Maura that they weren’t doing a medical scene here, but Maura’s hands were now stroking Jane’s entire arm. Jane’s hand was braced against Maura’s shoulder as Maura touched every part of Jane’s left arm. Jane decided she didn’t mind the medical jargon so much. It was kind of endearing that Maura never stopped being a doctor.

Finally, Maura let Jane’s arm drop. Jane let it sag in relief for a moment before planting it back on her hip, maintaining the same superhero pose. Maura’s arms looped through hers and began to stroke Jane’s back. Maura stood very close to her now, nearly hugging her, but not quite. Her hands ran the length of Jane’s back a few times, then she withdrew her arms and began to slowly walk around Jane’s body until she was behind her. Jane nearly jumped when Maura hands touched her shoulders, even though she was expecting it. She stayed still as Maura’s hands roamed her back, as she murmured incomprehensible muscle names that Jane couldn’t quite hear anyway. Maura’s hands began to stroke Jane’s sides, then around to Jane’s abs, until Maura was flush to Jane’s back, her hands all over Jane’s abs, hips, and upper legs. Jane felt stiff and awkward as she struggled to keep all the muscles in play flexed as Maura’s hands wandered. Her skin felt hot where Maura’s touched it.

And then, Maura disengaged, and circled back around to face Jane, and knelt. Jane looked down at her, watching as Maura’s hands started at the top of her leg and began to stroke downward. Jane no longer felt like such a statue, she felt free to watch Maura, which is how, when Maura looked up, they locked eyes.

“Your rectus femoris is very impressive,” Maura told her, her fingers stroking either side of Jane’s leg, “And, wow. The vastus medialus and lateralis are very well defined.”

Maura’s hands lifted and began to run down Jane’s upper leg again and this time, Jane felt acutely aware of how close Maura’s hand was to being between her legs. She was also becoming aware of the fact that she could feel her pulse there, just under her panties. But she refused to move. She just didn’t breath every time Maura’s hand touched the top of her legs, certain Maura could feel the heat there.

As Maura’s right hand continued to stroke Jane’s entire leg, now, her left hand had moved, again palming her own breast, stimulating her own nipple. Jane watched, unable to ignore it, until Maura moaned softly, “God, Jane. Your body looks so good. So…strong and…” Maura trailed off, looking up at Jane almost expectantly.

“Thank you?” Jane said again.

Maura searched her face for a long moment, her left hand still touching her breasts, her right stroking Jane’s hamstrings. Finally, she said, “You know, there’s often an element of degradation associated with these scenes.”

“I…what?” Jane asked. She understood Maura’s words; she just didn’t know what to do with them.

“I’m asking you,” Maura said softly, “If your research told you about the element of humiliation that these scenes often entail. And, if you would indulge me in them.” She paused, then reminded Jane, “You can Scalia me if you want to.”

Jane shook her head, “No. I don’t want to stop. I…” she took a moment to process what Maura was telling her. “What do you want me to do?” she asked. She needed to know what she was agreeing to.

Maura stood slowly, and guided Jane’s hand up so it was resting on the back of Maura’s head. “I want you to grab my hair. Not hard, not so much it hurts, but enough so that you can guide it. I want you to force my face against the muscles of your upper body or torso, and tell me that I’ll never be this strong and sexy and amazing, that my body will never look that good,”

Jane stared at her, “But, you _do_ look good,” she replied, confused.

Maura grinned and even blushed a little. “Thank you. But that is beside the point with regard to the scene. Erotic humiliation doesn’t have to be completely true to be effective.”

Jane nodded. Maura wanted her to lie, which would somehow make the experience more erotic for her. And abruptly, it hit Jane. She’d always kind of thought of Maura as a bit sexually fluid, so it hadn’t surprised her too much to find out Maura might have a purely sexual interest that involved another woman. But now she understood _why_. The experience for Maura was very gendered. It _had_ to be a woman telling Maura she wasn’t as sexy as the other woman was. It wouldn’t work the same if it were a man.

Jane wondered, then, if Maura’s sexual interest in women went anywhere beyond a kind of fetish. It wasn’t something they’d ever talked about, and now Jane kind of wished they had.

And ultimately, if this was what Maura needed to have the experience with this that she wanted, well. Jane wasn’t about to deny her. “I’ll try,” she told Maura, “If I can figure out what to say.”

“Tell me how sexy you are,” Maura answered breathily, “Tell me how I’ll never be.”

Jane felt heat flood her body at the words, even though they also made her a bit sad. She took a breath, and curled her fingers in Maura’s hair. She guided Maura’s head over to her other flexed bicep. There, Maura began to gently rub her cheeks against the arm. Jane swallowed, and said, “Do you feel that?” Maura shakily hummed an affirmative. “Feel how strong my arms are. I could probably lift you, right now.” Idly, Jane wondered if she actually could, but regardless, she could brag about it anyway. Jane swallowed and tried to figure out how to continue. “You’ll never have arms like these,” she whispered.

She heard and felt Maura’s breath hitch. Jane chuckled a little, “You like that, huh?” It was partly the cockiness she was drawing on to play this role for Maura, and partly a legitimate query, to check in with her.

“Yes,” Maura murmured, “I love feeling like I’m at your mercy. Tell me about your abs. Make me worship your abs.”

Jane grabbed Maura’s shoulders and guided her to sit on her armchair. Jane stood before her, and threaded her hand in Maura’s hair. Maura gazed up at her with dark, intense eyes for a moment before Jane guided her face to rest against her abs. “Kiss them,” Jane said softly. Maura did, and Jane felt a scrape of teeth that reverberated lower. She slowly guided Maura’s lips and cheeks over her stomach. “My abs are amazing, aren’t they? So much sexier than yours will ever be.” Jane cringed for a second, until Maura moaned in the affirmative. Jane looked down to see that Maura was touching herself, over her panties. Jane’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and she groped for words. “I barely even work out,” she laughed, “You could work out every day and still not look this good.” It sounded silly, petty, but there was that gasping moan from Maura and another kiss and bite.

“Jane,” Maura moaned softly, “God, Jane, your body is perfect.”

“And I love watching you worship it. Watching you pressing yourself against me, helpless just because I look so good.” Jane grimaced. She wasn’t sure her stumbling words could be effective for anyone, yet Maura moaned again, her fingers finding a rhythm over her panties. Jane forced Maura to kiss just above her hipbones, resisting the impulse to press her hips forward.

Moments later, Jane coaxed Maura to stand, this time pulling her forward so their bodies were nearly touching. Her left hand held Maura’s face against her left shoulder. Maura immediately began to kiss every part of Jane’s shoulder and arm that she could reach. “Fuck, your arms are sexy,” Maura groaned.

“Strong enough to protect you,” Jane answered, and then stopped. She wasn’t sure what she was saying, just that her heart was racing, and she had forgotten to insult Maura. “Enjoy these muscles while you can,” she murmured, trying to recover the persona she was using. “After all, I’m in control here. I could take them away at any time.”

“Please don’t,” Maura begged.

“Don’t worry. I’m not done with you yet,” Jane replied. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?” she asked as she forced Maura to kiss just next to her neck. “You’re jealous that I look so good.”

“Jealousy as an erotic force has been a noted phenomena in human sexual response.” The words were soft, just next to her ear.

Jane blinked, and for a long moment, just enjoyed the sensation of Maura’s hot mouth on her shoulder and upper arm, enjoyed the way her breath tickled her skin as Maura told her how good she looked. Jane’s entire body felt like it was tingling.

Finally, she murmured, “Maura? In these scenes, can the…muscle worshipee…touch themselves?”

Maura’s lips on Jane’s shoulder stopped for just a moment. “It’s…not required but it’s definitely allowed.”

“Good,” Jane breathed, and grasped Maura’s hair with her right hand, now, guiding her face over to her right shoulder. Now, with Maura’s hip pressed just against her thigh, Jane could feel Maura’s right hand moving. A glance down confirmed that Maura’s hand was in her panties, moving deliberately, steadily.

Jane exhaled shakily, and her left hand moved slowly across her hip to slide into the waistband of her underpants. Jane found she was unable to suppress a breathy curse as she stroked her fingers past her clit to abundant wetness.

Maura moaned, almost in response. Jane flexed her right arm harder, grasping Maura’s hair, feeling Maura’s lips and now tongue all over her arm. Jane’s fingers found her clit, and she immediately felt a surge of pleasure that told her she was already very, very aroused.

“I love feeling how strong you are,” Maura said breathlessly, nibbling at Jane’s arm.

“You’re very good at worshipping me,” Jane replied dazedly. She was already feeling sort of close, which was unbelievable to begin with, considering that when she got off alone, she always used a vibrator. It was just easier, to lose herself in sensation and not have to think much, and Jane had become quite reliant on it. But right now, she had no vibrator, and she was surprised to realize that her own left hand just might succeed in getting her there anyway.

“Tell me how sexy you are,” Maura gasped, and Jane could feel Maura rolling her hips subtly against her own hand.

“I look so sexy, Maura, you can’t stop putting your mouth all over me.” Jane swallowed, feeling Maura’s tongue trace her shoulder.

“Tell me how I’ll never look as good as you,” Jane felt Maura’s words as a rush of warm sound in her ear, and then Maura’s mouth was tracing the muscle connecting her neck and shoulder. Jane could feel how quickly her hand was moving over herself.

“You’ll never look this good,” Jane grunted in the cockiest voice she could muster.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Maura’s voice crescendoed, and then she muffled any further sound on Jane’s shoulder. Jane could feel Maura’s bucking hips, and then her own eyes rolled back into her head and her breathing stopped, and she was gasping for air as she came, hips surging forward, chasing her hand, as she held Maura’s head and upper body against her own.

It took a long moment for Jane to collect her wits, and she nearly panicked when she realized she’d just come with another person. Not that Maura had made her come, exactly. But she had come _with_ Maura, and that had never happened before. She’d never come with _any_ partner before.

But after a moment, she regained awareness of her situation, and did what came naturally to her. She loosened her grip on Maura’s hair, and turned her body so that they were really facing each other, and she held Maura gently, and breathed. Maura head rested on her shoulder, and her arms wrapped around Jane, as Maura’s breathing slowed.

After a few long moments, Maura pulled away and looked Jane in the eye. “ _Thank you_ ,” she said, so genuinely that Jane could barely feel that awkward about it.

Though she did feel awkward. It was hard not to feel awkward when it was legitimately the most intimate moment she’d ever shared with another human, and she was pretty sure Maura had no idea. So she just shrugged, her eyes darting away. “Of course.”

Maura stepped back, reaching for her robe, and Jane moved toward the armchair to at least pull back on a shirt. After she put her t-shirt back on, she stopped, and turned toward Maura. “Maura?”

“Yes?”

“You…do know I didn’t mean anything I said about you not being attractive, right?”

“I know,” Maura was smiling, “But I appreciate you saying so.”

“Good. Because you _do_ look good.”

“Thank you,” Maura’s eyes lit up. “I’m hungry. You want me to order a pizza?”

“I…yeah, pizza sounds great,” Jane blinked, trying to keep up with the conversation. But, she realized, she was quite hungry.

Maura tied her robe, “Come down when you’re dressed, I’ll open a beer for you. Oh, if you want to borrow any pajamas, there might be a set that would fit you in the second drawer of my dresser.”

When Maura left the room, Jane sat heavily on the armchair for a moment. She just had an orgasm, and now was going to have pizza and beer. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was.

Maura really was the best friend she’d ever had.

There was a thought in the back of her head. _Did best friends do this_?

The only thing Jane could figure was that they must, because she and Maura did.


	3. Drawing out the scene in stains

For Maura, it took about a week before she was able to look past the fact that it was one of the most erotic experiences of her life and start to examine what it could mean.

Probably because every time she started to dwell on it, all she could think about was the feel of Jane’s lean, powerful muscles under her lips and hands, and the sound of Jane’s raspy voice in her ear, whispering clumsy things that nonetheless made Maura’s knees weak. And then that was all she could focus on.

So after almost a week of nightly masturbation as Maura relived the scene, she finally reached a place where she started to actually think about the fact that _Jane_ came, too. Beyond the fact that feeling Jane climax while half-holding her had been completely erotic, of course.

As she’d told Jane, it wasn’t a requirement that the person being worshipped had to achieve orgasm, too. In fact, she hadn’t been expecting much of a reaction from Jane at all, especially given that Jane hadn’t been comfortable enough to remove her panties at the top of the encounter—which had really been the only drawback, that Maura hadn’t been able to worship her gluteus muscles, too. Everything had been coded as this was a favor Jane was doing _for_ Maura, something Jane had zero interest in.

Yet, Jane had come. And, Maura reasoned, there had to be an explanation for _that_.

By her own admission, Jane did not seem interested in power play, and Maura was inclined to take Jane at her word. It was therefore probably not the erotic humiliation that Jane had found arousing.

Maura supposed it could have been the sensations that had stimulated a sexual response. But she hadn’t particularly been engaging the typical human erogenous zones. Perhaps it had been the mild narratophilic element, but unless Jane was engaging with the humiliation element, which Maura had already ruled out, she didn’t think what they said qualified as dirty talk.

No, Occam’s razor, in Maura’s opinion, indicated that it was mostly likely the exhibitionist element that Jane had tapped into. After all, Maura had noticed some subtle physical signs of arousal in Jane before they’d even engaged with the erotic humiliation element. If anything had aroused Jane, it seemed, it was being exposed, and being the recipient of attention.

Maura decided that if she was going to take Jane along on this erotic journey of discovery, she would ensure that Jane got to experience some revelations of her own.

So the following Friday over breakfast, Maura asked Jane if she could come over that evening and pose for a painting for her.

Jane gave her a wary frown over the poached egg and steamed spinach and onion Maura had convinced her to try. “Pose for a painting? Like, sit still for an hour?”

“Well, there will probably be some sitting still, yes. But I can pose you on the couch and put something you like on the television.”

“Can I drink beer?”

Maura thought about it. “I…suppose that wouldn’t get in the way.”

“All right,” Jane shrugged, “If that’s what you want.”

Maura studied her, trying to decipher Jane’s thoughts. “I supposed I should disclose that this would be a nude portrait.”

Jane’s eyebrows rose. “Oh,” she replied, taking a long sip of coffee.

“Would that be okay?”

Jane didn’t answer for a long moment, merely chewed her food thoughtfully. Maura took pleasure in the fact that Jane _was_ eating the food, despite all her complaints that she would hate it and why couldn’t she just have bacon. Maura was proud that she had apparently seasoned the spinach well enough that Jane was able to enjoy it without much fuss.

Finally, Jane said, “Yeah, that’s fine. That’s how it usually goes, right?”

“Yes,” Maura answered, “It’s much easier to practice drawing human anatomy with a nude model.”

“Then, sure, I mean. I guess I should be flattered you want me to model for you.” Her eyes dipped down to her coffee cup. Maura watched her, but Jane’s expression stayed fairly neutral. She finished her food, then pushed her empty plate away. “This was awful. Never make it again.” But there was the ghost of a smile on her face.

Maura laughed, “I can tell you hated it,” she raised her eyebrows at the plate, positively scraped clean, then reached over for it to rinse it off. “A nice vitamin-rich, carbohydrate-free breakfast is a great way to start the day. You’ll feel so much more energized. Trust me.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing that I’ll probably be doing desk work today,” Jane said, attempting to roll her eyes. They’d just wrapped up a case they’d been working on since Monday the day before, leaving another potential lull in their workloads.

“Then at least you’ll be nourished enough to curb snacking until lunch,” Maura flashed her a grin over her shoulder, as Jane snorted disbelievingly and rose, pulling back on her suit jacket, signaling she was ready to head to work.

Maura decided to let Jane drive. Best to let the detective have her way with at least one thing today.

 

Jane drove them back to Maura’s after work, and followed Maura into the house without question. Once inside, though, she frowned as she took off her badge and gun, and stared around the room as if seeing it for the first time.

“I must have been severely under-caffeinated this morning when I agreed to this. I can’t do this.”

Maura was crestfallen, “Why not?” she asked.

“This is your front room. I can’t be naked in your front room. What if my mother walks in?”

“Jane,” Maura answered firmly, “You know your mother is working tonight and won’t be home for at least another six hours.”

“I know,” Jane said, voice taking on a hint of a whine, “But what if she gets out early? What if Tommy decides to drop by with TJ? What if Frankie—”

“Jane,” Maura interrupted, stern now. “No one is coming over. And if your mother comes home early, well. All we’re doing is practicing art.” She smiled, forcing levity into the moment. “Beer?”

“Right,” Jane muttered, “Art.”

Maura passed Jane a beer. “I’ll be right back,” she told her, afraid for a moment that Jane might just leave. She glanced back to see Jane lean awkwardly against the island counter as she sipped her beer. Maura frowned. She’d have to find a way to get Jane comfortable or this experiment would not yield accurate results.

She came back into the front room carefully carrying her easel and a big pad of paper. Jane’s eyes widened and she put her beer down and rushed over. “Let me help you.”

“Don’t scratch the wall,” Maura warned as she passed the easel off to Jane, who maneuvered it carefully out of Maura’s hallway.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were getting something like this? I would’ve helped you.”

“I know. I wanted you to enjoy your beverage. Set up over there,” she pointed with her chin and followed Jane over beside the TV.

“Here?” Jane asked.

“Here, let me…” Maura showed Jane how to set up the easel, and then adjusted its placement, squinting at the couch.

“…Do you want me to be over there?” Jane asked uncertainly.

Maura shook her head. “Not quite.” She set her pad of paper on the easel, then went back to her study closet to retrieve her art supplies. She frowned as she opened her art box and examined the contents. Some of her paints appeared to have dried out, and she had fewer colors left than she remembered.

But she still had several nice graphite pencils, some even still sharp. She could work with that. And she might actually be able to finish a figure drawing in a single session, whereas she might need a few for a painting.

She came back into the front room to find Jane examining the easel, like a skittish cat meeting a new person. She backed away as she saw Maura. Maura placed her art supplies on a nearby end table, then turned to look at Jane, who took a swig of beer and then pursed her lips, looking uncertain.

“Whenever you’re ready, if you could remove your clothes, please, and then I’ll ask you to pose for a few gesture drawings.”

Jane’s eyes lingered on Maura for a moment, “I’m guessing that you won’t be getting naked just to help me feel less awkward, huh?”

Maura blinked, “I hadn’t thought about it. I certainly can, if you—”

“It was a joke, Maura,” Jane smiled, and then began shrugging off her suit jacket. She moved to set her beer bottle down on the coffee table, and before Maura could even remind her, reached for a coaster. She held her suit jacket, looking around for a place to put it.

“Here,” Maura reached for it, and folded it carefully before placing it on a chair next to her. Jane watched her uncertainly for a moment, and then Maura said, “Actually, before you finish undressing, if you could help me move the coffee table, I would appreciate it.”

Jane’s eyebrows rose, “You have no idea how glad I am you thought of this now.” She moved her beer, with its coaster, to Maura’s mantle, and then the two of them each picked up a side of the coffee table and moved it closer to the television.

“That’s better,” Maura said, “I’ll need to be able to see your whole body when you do the standing poses for the gesture drawings.”

“Standing poses?” Jane frowned, pulling off her v-neck t-shirt. “Okay, it’s time to admit that I’m not sure what you want me to do. I thought I was posing for a painting?”

“I have fewer paints left than I thought, so I’ll just be doing a graphite drawing instead. But I do need to warm up first, and for that, I’ll ask you to just do a few thirty-second or one-minute poses so that I can practice quickly capturing your form.”

“Okay…” Jane said slowly, pulling off her undershirt. Maura reached over to take Jane’s shirts and carefully folded them with her jacket as Jane kicked off her shoes, socks and pants. But as Maura gathered the newly-discarded clothing, Jane just paused, standing there in her underwear. Maura looked up after folding Jane’s pants, watching her expectantly. Jane took a breath, then reached behind her to unclasp her bra, letting it fall down her arms, then, without pausing, pulled her underpants down her legs.

Maura reached for the undergarments, and Jane shot her a fierce look. “No way are you folding these,” she clutched them to her chest, looking around, and then dropped them beside the couch, out of Maura’s line of sight. Maura subsided, and she scanned Jane’s lean, long form, as she stood there with her arms folded and her legs held together.

Maura smiled encouragingly, “That’s a good starting pose. Okay. I’ll start the drawings and try to keep an eye on my watch. I’ll let you know when to change poses. The poses can be anything you want, anything you think you can hold for a minute.”

“Okay,” Jane said quietly, not moving. Maura felt Jane’s eyes on her as she moved her pencil rapidly over the pad of paper, trying to capture the basic lines of Jane’s form. It was a bit difficult, because Jane’s current compact pose didn’t give her a lot of negative space to work with, but they both needed to warm up.

“I didn’t realize this was something you did,” Jane said after about a minute.

“Change poses, please,” Maura responded, tearing off her sheet of paper. Jane blinked and then stepped forward with one foot and raised one of her arms. Maura smiled. A bit more negative space. Finally, she answered Jane, “With my mother being who she is, I took a lot of art classes. I had some aptitude, but I was much more interested in science.” She eyed Jane, moving her pencil over the paper. “But art and science are related,” she said distractedly, “And I do think that the familiarity I gained with the human form through drawing translated well to my knowledge of anatomy.”

“Makes sense,” Jane muttered, still holding her pose.

Maura sketched, glancing at her watch. The big watch face was always useful, but especially now, as Maura needed to determine quickly how much time was left for each pose. “Change, please,” she said after about a minute. Jane turned her body, widening her stance, one arm outstretched, the other on her hip. “Lovely,” Maura murmured, taking in all the negative space she had to work with. Jane smiled, but tried to suppress it.

They continued like that for about ten more poses, then Maura did five more at only thirty seconds, feeling warmed up and ready to sketch faster. And like the muscle worship scene, she could see the moment when Jane started to get comfortable, when her poses became less stiff, more natural, more adventurous. She used the couch arm and the coffee table to stabilize her more complex poses, she crouched, she reached high. The only thing she didn’t do now was look at Maura.

Maura watched Jane for several extra seconds at the end of the last pose. She was beginning to think her supposition about Jane’s tendency toward exhibitionism might have more supporting evidence. For someone as demure as Jane was about sex to quickly find comfort in situations in which she was nude and the center of attention, well…to Maura, that seemed like good evidence.

“Thank you,” Maura said softly, and Jane took the signal to relax. Maura tore off her sheet of paper and turned her pad horizontal. Jane was rotating her torso and stretching her triceps, as if loosening up to play softball. Maura watched her fondly for a moment, relishing the unselfconscious way she moved when she thought Maura wasn’t watching.

“If you could get comfortable on the couch, I’d like to begin the life drawing.” Maura said gently.

Jane glanced sidelong at the couch, “Should my naked body really be on fabric like this?” she asked warily.

“Oh!,” Maura said, embarrassed to have forgotten. “That reminds me. Let me get a sheet.” Jane stood awkwardly next to the couch as Maura came back from her upstairs closet with a spare light blue bedsheet. She draped the sheet over the couch and explained, “It really helps to accentuate the negative space around you. The point of the life drawing is your figure, not your surroundings, so the sheet will help eliminate the distraction of the pattern of the couch.”

“It’ll also make me feel a little better about putting my bare ass on something that costs twice as much as my rent.” Jane muttered.

Maura hadn’t considered that angle. It simply didn’t concern her where Jane’s bare ass might be in her home, “Well, I’m glad it’ll make you more comfortable, too. Please, sit down.” As Jane moved toward the couch, Maura reached down and gathered up her discarded bra and panties.

“Hey!” Jane said as she saw Maura pass, carrying them. Maura folded them deliberately and lay them down with Jane’s other clothes. Jane sighed, defeated, and then slouched down in the center of the couch, her legs stretched out in front of her, crossed at the ankle. Her hands rested on her hips.

Maura tried not to laugh. “Not…quite like that. Can you pose facing me?”

“Then I probably won’t be comfortable,” Jane whined, but she complied, turning and leaning back against the arm of the sofa. She propped her elbow up against the back of the couch and leaned her head against it, and her other arm rested on the arm of the sofa. One leg stretched out along the sofa, the other bent up at the knee, a position that showed nothing private, but was visually interesting. She grinned at Maura. “Draw me like one of your French girls,” she said breathily.

Maura frowned and eyed her uncertainly. “I told you. I’ve never been with any French women.”

“Really?” Jane asked, “You haven’t seen that movie either? Where have you been living for the past twenty years? Space?”

Maura elected to ignore the comment, and instead eyed Jane’s posture uncertainly, “Are you sure that pose is going to be comfortable for an hour?”

“Yeah? Won’t it?”

Maura looked askance. “You might be surprised by how quickly it becomes tiresome to keep a limb elevated.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got muscles, remember?” Jane flexed her arm a few times to emphasize her point, and Maura’s eye was immediately drawn to the action.

“If you say so,” Maura shrugged. She then tilted her head, studying Jane’s form, the way she occupied the space. She began a quick gesture drawing to place Jane’s form on paper.

After a few minutes as she began to connect lines and solidify Jane’s form, she noticed a few things: Jane’s beer was still across the room on the mantle. The television wasn’t on. Jane was concerned about sitting naked on her couch. Jane had _flexed_ for her.

To Jane, Maura thought, this might be another scene, or at least equivalent. The idea intrigued Maura.

As she continued to draw Jane for the next fifteen minutes or so, Maura began to note the physical cues in Jane’s body. And she was a bit disappointed to notice that Jane was showing signs of discomfort. Her corrugator supercilii muscles had contracted, and her posture seemed very tense. Maura was concerned that her supposition that Jane was deriving pleasure from this scene was incorrect.

Until Maura noticed Jane’s left arm trembling a little bit. She relaxed and nearly chuckled, “Jane, are you okay?”

“Huh? Yeah. I’m fine,” Jane answered tightly.

“If you need to relax your arm, please do so.”

“But then I’ll spoil the pose,” Jane sounded so disappointed that Maura felt a little bit hurt for her.

“It’s fine,” Maura reassured, “Give your arm a break, I’ll focus on other parts of you for awhile.”

Jane sagged, dropping her arm off the back of the couch and onto her lap. Her entire posture changed, really, which made Maura frown and try to memorize the differences that had just occurred. She was concentrating so hard on the parts of Jane that hadn’t moved that she hardly paid attention to Jane’s physical cues.

After a few minutes, Jane tried to straighten up her torso to the taller posture she’d been sitting in before, even if her arm remained in her lap. She half pulled the sheet off the back of the couch in the process.

“Don’t move,” Maura said right away as Jane began to shift to put the sheet back. Maura moved across the room and leaned across Jane to lift the sheet back into place, smoothing its lines the best she could.

It was as she was stepping back from the couch that she noticed she had been hovering right over Jane’s naked form, and that Jane was staring at her with wide, dark eyes, a blush spreading from her chest up to her cheeks.

Maura turned and walked back to her easel so she would have time to suppress a smirk. So something about this _was_ working for Jane. She returned to her drawing, wanting to work on Jane’s arms, but also wanting Jane to stay comfortable, to see what might happen.

She noticed, now, that Jane was no longer staring into space as she posed; she was actively watching Maura. It probably wouldn’t have distracted Maura too much, except that she was also watching Jane, taking note of the flush still on her skin, her elevated breathing rate. She was no longer looking at Jane as a model, and it was becoming harder to get back into that headspace.

Finally, she asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jane replied softly, but she sounded uncertain.

“I’m just trying to make sure. You’re flushed, your breathing rate has increased.”

Jane didn’t say anything for a long moment, and avoided eye contact. Finally, she just said, “I’m…not sure what we’re doing here.”

“Are you referring to the fact that your body language is telling me that you’re aroused?”

Jane’s flush darkened, and her legs shifted slightly. Maura swallowed the urge to remind her not to move. “Is this working for you?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” Maura asked.

“I mean, as this being one of your kink things. Is there anything I should be doing to make it work for you? You’re not giving me a lot to work with here,” she chuckled awkwardly.

“This, um…” Maura took a moment to try to respond. It _hadn’t_ been a scene for her at all, but now that she was faced with a squirming Jane, clearly enjoying what was happening, she found she wasn’t so interested in continuing her drawing. “What you’re doing has been just fine,” she said softly, “But if you need to move you arm, you’re welcome to.”

“Move my…” Jane frowned, rotating her arm.

“I meant,” Maura said softly, running her hand up her side to cup her own breast, “If you need to do something else with your hands…”

Jane’s eyes widened, and her hand moved almost automatically to her own breast, her eyes fixed on Maura’s hand. “Just…let me know if I need to…say or do anything…” Jane mumbled.

“I’m sure whatever you have in mind will be fine,” Maura answered lowly. She continued her sketch with her right hand, while her left continued to caress her own breast. She figured that detached, attentive gaze may have been part of what was working for Jane, although most of her work on the sketch was pantomimed, leaving most of her attention able to focus on her other hand. But she tried to keep looking at Jane like she was a model, even though all she really wanted to do was focus on Jane’s breasts, the way her nipples were hardening, the way Jane’s hand cupped her breast and stroked over her own abs. The way Jane’s legs were shifting, parting just slightly.

Maura scanned, took in the way Jane’s chest rose and fell with her breathing, the way her hand stopped near her hips and then travelled back up to her breasts, the way her eyes, wide and dark, watched Maura eagerly, as if waiting for a cue.

And Maura realized what Jane was waiting for: confirmation of what was about to happen. So Maura swallowed, put down her pencil and unzipped her work slacks.

She heard Jane’s sharp intake of breath as Maura’s hand slid into her pants. Maura shifted her eyes to Jane, trying to maintain the steady intensity of her artistic gaze, but it was difficult with the way Jane focused on Maura’s hand and, chest heaving a little, allowed her own to slide downward, mimicking Maura’s.

Maura’s composure shattered the moment she saw Jane’s strong fingers press between her legs. She gasped, stifled a curse. She still couldn’t see much—Jane’s legs remained barely parted, and her hand covered most of her intimate area—but she could certainly see enough. Jane’s eyes met hers for just a moment before it became too intense, and Maura closed her eyes, focusing on her own hand, finding a rhythm with her fingers.

When she opened her eyes, Jane’s mouth was parted, her cheeks and chest even more flushed, and her eyes were fixated on the motion of Maura’s hand. Maura lifted her other hand, sliding under her now untucked blouse to touch her breasts, and scanned Jane’s lean, long form, watching the way the muscles of her abs hitched and rolled with the movement of Jane’s hand between her legs. Jane, nude, with what looked like the muscles of her entire body engaged as she touched herself, was almost as good as feeling them against Maura’s skin.

Maura felt her orgasm sneak up on her, almost staggering her as she fought to keep her balance as her knees threatened to buckle with the hard dip in her stomach. “Jane,” was all she was able to utter, wanting her, needing her to see what was about to happen, and then Maura’s eyes squeezed shut of their own accord, and she was coming, bracing herself lightly against the easel as she rode out the movement of her own hips and hand.

When she opened her eyes, Jane was watching, puffing out breaths and moving her hand rapidly. “You look incredible,” Maura told her, shuddering as she pulled her hand out of her slacks.

“I…” Jane frowned, her eyes desperate, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to…” she started.

Maura snapped back into artist mode almost immediately, and she picked up her graphite pencil. “Of course you can,” she said smoothly. “You don’t have to, of course, and we can stop whenever you want, but…” she placed her pencil against the paper and glanced from her drawing to Jane, and continued her sketch. Jane was nowhere near in the same position she started in, but Maura could improvise. She would improvise, if Jane needed it.

“Oh,” Jane murmured, as Maura’s gaze swept over her. She bit her lower lip and watched Maura work, her hand still moving over herself.

It took several minutes, but Maura got to watch the whole process as she attempted to finish the sketch. The way Jane continued, at first obviously self-conscious, but in the moment. The way her self-consciousness slowly slipped away as Maura kept sketching her with that detached but direct and intense attention. The way she slowly began to get lost in the moment, then lost in herself, and her eyes slipped closed, allowing Maura to observe her completely, giving Maura the opportunity to watch everything that happened as Jane’s body shuddered and bucked and undulated through an orgasm, as she stifled her cries against her bitten right hand.

And how Jane opened her eyes and could only look away, clearly stunned by the level of intensity and intimacy of what they’d just shared.

Maura smiled as disarmingly as she could. “Thank you,” she said softly, “Would you like to see the drawing?”

Jane blinked and pushed her hair back off her forehead. “Oh. Um. Yeah.” She grabbed the sheet off the couch and draped it around herself as she walked over to the other side of the easel. She frowned and tilted her head to the side.

“Not my best work, I’ll admit. You were a bit…distracting at times.”

“Why do I have three arms?” Jane asked.

Maura laughed. The drawing had become a bit nebulous with the various poses Jane had taken. The light and unfinished left arm leaned against the sofa was there, but so was the left arm after Jane dropped it down to rest on her leg. The angle of Jane’s body also appeared as a sort of double vision as Maura tried to account for the changes in Jane’s position. It was certainly not a finished drawing. “I wouldn’t consider this finished yet, anyway. Maybe I can have you pose again for me sometime.”

Jane smirked, “Maybe,” is all she said.

Maura took that that to mean yes.


	4. The rush above me to oblivion

Jane sighed. Maura had somehow roped her into going food shopping, and Jane was incredibly bored. She began looking around for chips or cookies or literally anything delicious when she realized they were still in the produce section, and nothing tempting was nearby.

“Come on, Maura. We’ve been here for so long already.”

“Patience,” Maura chastised. She picked up two heads of lettuce and held them in front of her. “Do these look nice enough?”

Jane stared at the round lettuce, blinking as she found herself unable to _not_ think about Maura’s round and supple breasts behind the produce she held. “Um. Yeah, they’re fine.”

Maura watched her, a knowing smile on her face. Jane felt exposed. “It’s just _salad_ , Maura,” she said defensively.

“You never let me toss your salad for you,” Maura pouted.

“What are you talking about? Okay, can we seriously move on here?” She glanced at Maura’s cart, which was overflowing with melons and lettuce and grapefruit. “We’ll never eat all that before it goes bad!”

Maura turned to her. “Jane, seriously. Wake up.”

Jane shot up in bed, the words echoing in her ears as if they’d been real. It was Sunday night, or probably actually early Monday morning. Jane was sleeping in her apartment for the first time in three nights, and it took her a moment to place herself there, and not in Maura’s guest room.

She looked around, trying to get her bearings. As the sound seemed to fade, she began to doubt it had been real. Still, she crept out of bed and checked over her apartment.

When she got back in bed, she had peace of mind, and was certain the words had only sounded real.

And then all she was left with was, what the hell had that dream been?

By the time she’d slept a little more and made it to Maura’s for breakfast, she had mostly forgotten about her dream. Except that the dress part of Maura’s dress and jacket outfit of the day was fairly low-cut, and then Jane remembered the lettuce heads.

She was somewhat aware that she was a little distracted over breakfast, but that was mostly because she was trying to piece together that dream again. It stayed part of her thoughts through the day, as she and Korsak headed to a crime scene, as she interacted with Maura there and, after lunch, as she headed down to the morgue to find out what Maura had discovered about the body.

“Cause of death is blunt force trauma to the occiput with a cylindrical metallic object about an inch wide”

“A cylindrical metallic…” Jane started, frowning a little and trying to picture it. “Like…a crowbar?”

Maura tilted her head thoughtfully. “That would be consistent, although most crowbars are hexagonal, not cylindrical.”

“Well if you’re sure it’s cylindrical, that would help us narrow it down.” Jane stared at the body thoughtfully, but then her eyes drifted to Maura and before she knew it, she was staring at her.

“Something wrong?” Maura asked her, once she noticed.

“No. I just…have you ever had a weird dream about like…produce?”

“Produce,” Maura said, sounding a little distracted as she bent back over the body, “No, I can’t say I have.”

“I just…I had a weird dream that you were shopping for lettuce and then complained that I wouldn’t toss your salad or something.”

Maura snorted, “Oh, my,” she murmured, voice lilting.

“Oh, come on. Out of all the euphemisms, _this_ is the one you know?”

“I’m not sure why I’ve kept abreast of analingus euphemisms, but it appears I have,” Maura sounded rather pleased with herself.

“Okay. This conversation ends here,” Jane said abruptly, turning away.

“Why is it so hard to talk about any of this with you?” Maura sounded a little disappointed, and it made Jane stop.

Jane turned, arms folded. “I’m not good at talking about sex, okay? I never have been.” She looked away, “Come on, you know this about me. This isn’t new.”

“I know. I suppose I was just hoping we’d broken new ground in our friendship and reached a new level of comfort with each other.”

Jane felt heat on her face and realized she was smiling a little. But she shook her head. “I may never get to where you are, with talking about this stuff,” She shrugged. “I hope that’s okay.”

Maura didn’t say anything for a long moment, and finally said, “Of course it’s okay.”

Jane exhaled in relief and ran a hand through her hair. “Okay. I’m going to go see if Nina has anything for me. Call me if you discover anything else.”

“Of course.”

As they worked the case for the next few days, Jane almost forgot about their conversation, and her dream. Which was a relief, mostly.

By Thursday afternoon, the case was wrapped, and Jane was finishing out her day at her desk. It was a pleasant interruption when her phone rang and she saw that it was Maura.

“Hey, Maura.”

“Jane,” Maura said, and her voice sounded deliberate and controlled, but not urgent. “Just listen for a moment.”

“Sure, what’s up?” Jane leaned forward, immediately concerned.

“I’d like to try something with you, but I want you to think about it before you decide whether you want to be involved.”

“Okay…” Jane said uncertainly.

“I’d like to try a narratophilic scene,” Maura said breathily.

“Right now? But I’m…” She glanced up to see Nina and Korsak both regarding her with vague interest. She mouthed a ‘ _Sorry_ ’ and stood up, walking away from them, “I’m at work,” she finally said, once she was in the hallway.

“Where do you think I am?” Maura chuckled, “I’m in my office, at my desk. The shades are drawn. The door is locked.”

“Yeah, I don’t…have that luxury,” Jane swallowed.

“Then just listen, for now. You don’t have to say anything back,” Maura said softly, “I’d just like to practice my ‘dirty talk.’” Jane could hear the quotation marks around the phrase. “And I’d like your input on whether or not it’s effective.”

“Right, okay,” Jane replied distractedly as she moved down the hall. Did she want to head to her car?

“My blouse is open,” Maura informed her, voice pitched low, sultry. “And I’m touching my breasts and my areolas, and stimulating my mammary papilla.”

Jane grinned involuntarily, almost in relief. Maybe she could do this pretty easily. “Um. Less…medical jargon, I think.” She decided her car wouldn’t feel discreet. Too many people might walk by on the street.

“Noted,” Maura replied, “I’m rolling my nipple between my fingers, and I’m thinking about your arms.”

Jane swallowed, and abruptly, the conversation felt risky. “My…arms?” She peered into an interrogation room, considering ducking inside.

“Yes,” Maura told her, “I’m thinking of the way they feel under my hands. How strong they are. And how good they look.”

Jane wasn’t sure how to respond as she blinked at the table through the interrogation room window.

“Effective?” Maura asked.

“I guess,” Jane answered, noncommittal. She decided not to go into an interrogation room. She didn’t want to risk anything being recorded, even if she thought she could turn the cameras off. Just their presence would make her paranoid.

Maura hummed, and Jane heard a little gasp of air. She tried to imagine what Maura might be doing, but swallowed her question. Maura spoke after a moment, “When you told me about your produce dream, all I could think about was you, taking a cucumber—”

“No! No, ineffective,” Jane said sharply. Finally, she slipped into the break room. She’d be able to watch the window there and know if someone was coming who could overhear her conversation.

“Oh. So you’re not interested in—”

“No! Maura, that was a weird dream about your boobs or something, not about turning vegetables into…dildos,” She whispered the last word, then shuddered and took a seat, facing the window and door.

“My boobs?” Maura sounded intrigued. Jane winced, frustrated with herself. “I’m caressing my boobs right now, you know,” Maura informed her breathily.

Jane chuckled, “Kinda ineffective. Too…colloquial, I guess,” she responded. Though she had to admit, it did help her imagine what was making Maura make those little breathy sounds.

“Thank you,” Maura answered, then paused. Jane heard her inhale shakily. “I’m thinking about the way you touched your breasts, when you were on my couch.”

Jane’s entire face felt hot. She cleared her throat.

“Effective?” Maura asked.

“Kind of,” Jane answered, her voice feeling weak.

“What are you doing right now?”

“I’m…sitting in the break room.”

“So you’re alone?”

“For now,” Jane kept her eyes on the window.

“I’m lifting up my skirt,” Maura said, almost matter-of-factly.

Jane shifted in her seat. “Yeah?” she asked, for lack of anything better to say.

“Yes. And thinking about how it felt to have your body pressed against mine. How it felt to have your arm hold me in place.”

“That was…nice,” Jane admitted.

“What are you thinking about?”

Jane crossed her legs. “I…don’t know how to…”

“Please,” Maura begged softly, “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

Jane blinked and tried to formulate a response. “I’m wondering where your hands are.” She swallowed, her throat dry.

“My left hand is pinching my nipple,” Maura told her, “And my right is under my skirt, but not touching anything…yet.”

Jane closed her eyes for a moment to savor the image before she remembered to watch the window again. She knew it had been awhile since she’d had sex, but she was honestly surprised by how effective Maura’s words were. She supposed it was hard to imagine Maura touching herself without thinking of the _other_ times Maura had touched herself, and how being with Maura in those moments had made Jane feel so sexy and powerful that _she_ became aroused, too. She guessed this was what friends with benefits amounted to when both women were straight. At least, she’d always thought of them both that way.

“Effective?” Maura prompted when Jane didn’t respond.

“Yeah,” Jane admitted, almost ashamed. It was frustrating to have so little control over her libido, but Maura had somehow reached inside her and found some little insatiable corner of her erotic mind, through all of Jane’s repression. The repression she’d never really minded, until recently, because it was easier, most of the time.

“How does it feel to know that we’re talking like this, right now, at work, surrounded by our colleagues?”

“Dangerous,” Jane focused on the window again.

“Maybe I like a little thrill seeking,” Maura breathed, “Maybe I like thinking about you, in the break room, touching yourself while I talk to you, where anyone might walk in.”

Jane’s eyes fluttered shut. “That’s not going to happen,” she said thickly, “I’m going to have to behave myself.”

“I understand,” Maura told her, “I’m glad I have my own office, so I can touch myself, like I’m doing right now, over my panties. God, I can already tell how aroused I am.”

Jane searched for something to say, “How does it feel?” she finally asked.

“So good,” Maura’s voice wavered. “I’m thinking about how good you looked when you were touching yourself on my couch. You have no idea. The way you moved, how sexy your abdominal muscles looked.” When Jane couldn’t figure out what to say, Maura asked, “Effective?”

“Just…wishing you’d called me when I was at home with my vibrator, instead,” Jane admitted, rubbing her forehead, her heart thudding at the admission.

Maura moaned softly, “Me, too.”

Jane shifted in her chair. “What are you doing now?” she asked, completely invested now. It was out in the open; they were both enjoying this.

“I’m going to slide my hand into my panties right…now,” Maura sighed in pleasure. Jane could feel her pulse between her own legs and she crossed them, hard, but it didn’t help.

“What are you thinking about?” Jane asked breathlessly.

“How much I wanted to touch you, when you were on my couch,” Maura admitted softly, “How much I wanted to feel you climax against me.” Jane’s face felt like it was on fire. “Too much?” Maura asked this time.

“No.” It was barely a whisper.

“What are you thinking about?”

Jane laughed lowly, “I can’t think of anything else but what your fingers are doing. Tell me what you’re doing.”

“I’m circling my clitoris.” The word was a bit technical for Jane’s taste but, she realized, not ineffective, because all she could do was close her eyes and imagine it. “I’m feeling how hot and wet I am, thinking about you and your body.”

Objectification never felt so hot, Jane thought, but her throat felt frozen, she had no idea how to respond.

“Jane,” Maura whispered, “I have an idea.”

Jane’s stomach dropped in anxiety and desperation. “What?” she asked.

“Since you can’t…stimulate your body with me, I want you to tell me what to do.”

“Uh…” Jane’s mind worked furiously, trying to process the request, “Yeah, I don’t think I—”

“Please, try,” Maura begged, “For me. Because my hands have stopped moving, and I don’t want to have to stop completely.”

Jane gritted her teeth, feeling frustrated and anxious and excited all at once. “Um. Damn it, okay.” It took her a long time to force out her next sentence. “I want you to touch yourself again.”

“Where, specifically?” Maura asked, apparently hell-bent on torturing her.

Jane screwed up her face and worked her jaw for a long time until she finally uttered through her teeth. “Your clit. Touch your clit. Please.”

Maura hissed in approval, and Jane felt momentarily triumphant. Then, Maura said, “How shall I touch it?”

Jane felt like banging her head against the wall, but she also felt desperate, needing to get this right. “How do you like to touch it?” she asked.

“I typically enjoy a clockwise stroke pattern,” Maura informed her breathily.

“Then…yeah, that. Clockwise circles,” Jane specified, before Maura could request it. She listened for a moment, then asked, “How does that feel?”

“Really good.” Maura said softly, then, “Don’t forget about my other hand.”

“Right,” Jane muttered, “Um, your other hand can go back to touching your breasts. Like you were before. Rolling your nipples.” It was getting marginally easier.

Maura sighed appreciatively, and Jane listened eagerly for a few long moments. Then Maura said, “I’m really very wet.”

“Yeah?” Jane asked, not sure what to do with that information except savor it.

“Don’t you want me to find out how wet?”

“Uh,” Again, Jane took a long time to find her words, “Does that mean…”

“Do you want me to finger myself?” Maura asked bluntly, though her tone was sultry. _Effective_ , Jane thought.

“Yes,” Jane said, and took a moment to pull together some words. “Inside, um. With your finger. Touch yourself.” She waited, breath held, listening to the way Maura’s breath hitched.

“Oh,” Maura moaned softly. “I’m so…”

Jane couldn’t wait for her to decide on her words. Jane couldn’t wait for much else to happen because she could barely sit still for the way her pulse hammered between her legs, for how she felt so uncomfortably wet. “Touch yourself with both hands. Fingers inside, touch your clit with your other hand.” Her words came out in a rush and finally, she barely had to think about them.

“Fingers?” Maura asked.

“Yes,” Jane said distractedly, “Two.”

Maura moaned softly again. Jane listened eagerly to the small sounds of pleasure that followed as Maura complied.

“Please, Maura, tell me what you’re thinking about.” Jane spoke lowly after several long seconds.

“You,” Maura swallowed, “You, climaxing.”

Jane just closed her eyes and listened more. “Keep going,” she said softly.

“I’m close.”

Jane almost laughed, “Me, too.”

“You’re not even—oh _fuck_.” And then Jane drowned in the sounds of Maura’s suppressed groans and whimpers as she gripped her phone with a sweaty hand, her body involuntarily tensing with the rhythm of Maura’s moans.

It felt like almost a minute before Jane opened her eyes, and instantly, she took stock of her surroundings. Still alone. Still on edge. Still close.

“Oh, Jane. Thank you,” Maura said softly.

“Yeah,” Jane swallowed, “Listen, I’ve gotta go. See you for dinner?”

“Of course,” Maura nearly purred, “See you this evening.” Her voice sounded much more normal and she disconnected.

Jane stood up on shaky legs, sweating in her suit, and power-walked her way to the bathroom. She pushed open every stall to ensure she was alone, then ducked into the final one, locked the door, and leaned against the wall, finally, without preamble, opening her slacks and shoving her hand inside, the words and images Maura had given her tumbling around in an almost incomprehensible erotic heap in her brain.

Within a minute, she was bucking off the wall, swallowing her moans, and then catching her breath, blinking against the harsh light of the bathroom.

And then, the muted horror of realizing what she’d just done in her workplace, which slowly shifted to a kind of self-deprecating humor. She chuckled hollowly at herself and attempted to straighten her clothes and hair, but she knew her cheeks wore a flush she wouldn’t be able to hide.

She tried to swagger back to her desk, but she felt conspicuous as all hell.

“Everything okay?” Korsak asked.

“Yeah. Um, everything’s fine. Maura just needed my help for a minute.” More like twenty, she realized in surprise as she glanced at her watch.

Korsak glanced at Nina, though his expression didn’t reveal much. Jane just ignored them both until they all got immersed in paperwork again.

But every once in awhile, her mind would drift to Maura, and she’d forget to suppress a smile.


	5. The walls came crumbling

Maura could hear the moans drifting through the wall as she lay on the cheap motel bed with Jane. She closed her eyes, listened, and attempted to tap into the ecouteuristic experience.

It had taken a bit of effort to get here. First, she’d had to come up with an ethical way to explore ecouteurism, for which part of the thrill was often listening to people who didn’t know they were being observed. That would also, Maura assumed, create a more authentic experience, if the observed were therefore not putting on a show. So she had that in the back of her mind and one day, a few weeks after her narratophilic scene with Jane, the idea came to her.

She could ethically listen to people having sex who didn’t know they were being listened to if she went to a place where people could reasonably assume they might be overheard, but wouldn’t be concerned about the consequences of it. She considered a swingers event, but was not sure if a same-sex couple would be necessarily welcome at what was typically a heterosexual environment. And, while swingers wouldn’t necessarily worry about being observed, they would also know that they would be observed, which increased the likelihood that they might perform for said observers.

And then, the perfect location came to her: a seedy motel, where people would typically go to have sex. They’d know the walls were thin, but they wouldn’t necessarily be worried about who might overhear. It was perfect.

Convincing Jane to come with her had been a little easier than she thought. At first, Jane just seemed confused about why they needed to go anywhere to do what Maura wanted, but once Maura explained to her what ecouteurism was, Jane seemed to understand a little better. She nervously agreed that it was probably the best place for Maura to explore something and then, several hours later, admitted that she’d spent the day half-thinking about how they could go to one of those places without leaving any kind of trail. Ever a detective, Maura thought fondly.

Maura had been completely prepared to book the room for them while wearing her wide brim hat and sunglasses, but just as she was about to get out of their rental car, Jane groaned, cursed, and grabbed Maura’s arm. “No,” was all she said, and then she was shoving on her own aviators and a baseball cap and trying to hide her hair under her jacket. She went in for a few minutes and came back out with a key, looking shakier than Maura had ever seen her working any police case ever. But she flashed Maura a grimace that was almost a grin. They parked in front of their room, next to another car, and as Jane had been assured, they had neighbors; they could hear the low murmur of voices from the adjacent room.

A part of Maura assumed that Jane had needed to badge her way into getting this room, and, well. Jane didn’t offer the information, so Maura didn’t press her to discuss the risk Jane had just taken to increase the possibility of anyone recognizing them.

So Maura performed a brief check for bedbugs on the mattress and then draped the enormous sheet she’d brought from home over the entire bed. She and Jane both knew far too much about the state of the furniture and linens in places like this, and Maura wouldn’t miss this sheet when she left it behind.

And then they lay together, fully clothed, and listened. And within a few minutes, the sounds from the neighboring room began to change.

And yet…

Try as she might, Maura couldn’t seem to find the excitement of the experience. She’d thought it would be a supremely arousing voyeuristic experience, but so far, all she felt was disinterested and vaguely repulsed. She half-heartedly tried to touch her own breast a few times, but it did nothing for her.

She opened her eyes and glanced at Jane, who was staring at the ceiling and frowning ponderously. Another glance at Jane, and Jane noticed, and turned to look at Maura. Maura sighed, “After all that trouble, I’m extremely chagrined to admit that I’m really not deriving pleasure from this experience.”

Jane exhaled, “I’m so glad it’s not just me. Like, she sounds like she’s _so_ not enjoying it. And he sounds like he needs medical attention.”

“I am concerned that he might be displaying the warning signs of developing chronic obstructive pulmonary disease,” Maura furrowed her brow, assessing the sounds of his grunts and groans again.

Jane sighed, “Maybe if we were listening to a more attractive couple. I hear them and I think Homer Simpson and Betty Boop.”

Maura raised her eyebrows, “That’s…an image I never would have conceived on my own.”

Jane held up her hands, “I’m sorry, my mind just goes to weird places when I’m incredibly bored.”

Maura considered for a moment the possibility that Jane might have some form of ADHD, but discarded it after a moment. Instead, she turned toward Jane on the bed, “Well, what do you want to do?”

Jane scrunched up her face thoughtfully for a moment, then turned toward Maura. “It’d be a shame the waste the opportunity, after all this,” she admitted.

“True,” Maura acknowledged, “What could we do? Do you have any fantasies?”

Jane chuckled, once. “No,” she said flatly.

“Come on,” Maura encouraged, trying to catch her eye, “I’ve told you some of mine. You must have one.”

Jane rolled back onto her back. “Nope. Never.” Maura waited, just watching her, maintaining her air of insistence. Jane’s gaze darted all over the ceiling. Finally she sat up, “Alright, alright! I fantasize about having sex at Fenway, okay?”

Maura cocked her head, “I thought you wanted to get married there.”

“I just kinda wanna do everything there,” Jane mumbled, sounding embarrassed. She looked at Maura, turning toward her more, “Maybe I can do another one of your fantasies for you. Um. I can wear your shoes for you, if you want. I can probably squeeze my feet in.” She shrugged off her jacket, placing it at the foot of the bed.

Maura smiled at the offer, reminded of Jane’s disgust with the concept of any kind of foot fetish. “No, that’s okay. If I were going to do a retifistic scene, I’d want you in very different shoes from either of what we’re wearing.” Her eyes lingered on Jane’s boots, which were still on. How Jane could wear shoes in bed, Maura would never understand.

Jane tucked her feet back, so Maura couldn’t look at them, and scowled at her. “Fair enough.” She was quiet for a moment, thinking, and then she just met Maura’s gaze. “Is there anything I _can_ do for you right now?” She lifted her arm and flexed, subtly smirking.

Maura couldn’t help but focus her attention on the gentle rippling of Jane’s arm muscles. She allowed her gaze to linger over Jane’s biceps brachii for a moment and then grinned. “Actually,” she said, “Maybe you could do something for me.”

“Sure,” Jane replied evenly, but from the way her eyes dropped, and the compression of the obicularis oris, Maura could tell she was nervous.

Maura smiled disarmingly, “I just want you to come closer, so I can touch you. Oh, and turn on that clock radio, so we don’t have to hear the cartoon characters next door.”

“Oh,” Jane said softly. She reached over to the bedside table and turned on a fuzzy classic rock station, volume just high enough to obscure the sounds from the room next door. Then she turned, sitting next to Maura and leaning over her with her hands just above Maura’s shoulders, her ponytail falling over one shoulder. “Like this?” she asked, gazing down at Maura uncertainly.

Maura reached up and touched Jane’s shoulders with both hands, stroking slowly down her triceps brachii, her muscles already so enticing without her trying. “Yes. Like that,” she confirmed, her voice dipping low and soft.

Jane swallowed, and Maura felt her muscles twitch as she flexed harder, and then her gaze settled somewhere near Maura’s ear and her expression relaxed slightly.

Maura stroked Jane’s body everywhere she could reach, from Jane’s flexor carpi muscles up to her deltoid and trapezius, down her latissimus dorsi, external abdominal oblique and rectus abdominis. Jane hovered there, looking pleased and slightly amused, staring at nothing while Maura touched her.

Maura shivered deliciously, as she savored the reality of touching Jane’s body, of even being allowed. But as arousing at this was, she knew she would need more stimulation to be able to climax. So after a few minutes, she finally murmured, “For our last sthenolagnic scene, part of what really excited me was having the whole length of your body pressed against mine.”

“Yeah?” Jane asked, sounding a little proud for a moment, before she realized that Maura was requesting something. Then her expression changed, and she met Maura’s eye. “Wait, so you want me to…”

“Just…put your legs against my legs,” Maura clarified, trying to find the least alarming way to phrase what she wanted. Jane in erotic situations was like an ungulate, and could be quite skittish.

“Okay, so…” Jane’s body untwisted from the way it had been holding itself over Maura and, hips nearly flush with Maura’s own, settled. One of her knees settled between Maura’s thighs, the other just outside them. Jane’s body sunk slowly down as their pelvises connected, and Maura exhaled slowly, already feeling far more aroused. And then Jane settled her weight on her arms again, pressing her hips forward subtly against Maura’s, and she smirked down at her, making eye contact for a brief few seconds before looking away. But in those brief seconds, Maura’s pulse quickened, and her blood pressure rose in a way she was self-aware enough to notice. She lifted her hands up to settle on Jane’s back, and resumed touching Jane.

Jane shifted her hips slightly again, and Maura pressed back before she could stop herself. Jane froze, and Maura noticed the joints and muscles responsible for clenching Jane’s jaw had tightened. She ran a soothing hand down Jane’s back, massaging lightly. Jane remained still, but her jaw relaxed.

Maura continued touching Jane’s upper body for several long moments before she pressed up slightly against her again. This time, Jane pressed back, subtly. Maura sighed, and moments later, arched up again.

Jane’s response was to settle her thigh a bit more firmly against Maura’s external genitalia. “Effective?” she breathed, her voice pitched very low, that hint of a smirk reappearing.

Maura nodded shakily, “Yes. Very,” she pressed up against Jane, letting the smallest moan escape her lips as she felt Jane roll her hips in response. Her hands wandered, slipping under Jane’s t-shirt now to explore her abs directly.

After the shirt had traveled halfway up Jane’s torso, she leaned back, kneeling over Maura, and pulled her t-shirt over her head, placing it next to her jacket at the foot of the bed. Then she settled back down over Maura. “Seemed like it was in the way,” she husked.

The velvety rasp of Jane’s voice made Maura’s pulse thrum harder. Her hands explored all of Jane’s bare skin, dipping down to her belt, barely grazing the skin beneath the waistline of her jeans. Maura could barely even focus on which muscles she was touching anymore. She just cared that they felt so amazing under her hands.

And before long, the movement of their bodies was becoming rhythmic, as the roll of Maura’s hips was met with a returning thrust of Jane’s. She gripped Jane’s hip, and one hand grasped at her gluteus muscles through her jeans. Jane gasped, ground down harder. Maura bucked up against her, and her hands wandered again, from Jane’s ass and all over the warm skin of her back.

“You feel so good against me,” Maura gasped.

“Yeah?” Jane nearly purred in her ear.

“How does it feel for you?” Maura asked, needing to hear Jane say something.

“Good,” Jane murmured huskily. Her lips were parted, her eyes vague, not quite looking at Maura. She ground her thigh down harder, resumed their rhythm.

Maura let a hand slide up Jane’s abs and, unable to resist, rested her hand on Jane’s breast, over her bra.

Jane froze for a moment, “Wait.”

“Not okay?” Maura asked, withdrawing her hand.

Jane seemed to consider carefully, but then she said softly, “Touch me again.”

Maura complied, fingers gently spreading to cup Jane’s breast again. Jane inhaled shakily, and Maura could feel Jane’s nipple hardening under the thin fabric of her bra. Her fingers sought the nipple and Jane exhaled just as shakily as she ground her thigh down into Maura, resuming the rhythm they’d been building, her hair intermittently tickling Maura’s face.

“Talk to me,” Maura begged, after they were grinding together for several long moments.

“Um. You feel amazing against me,” Jane said hesitantly, “The way you move is…so sexy.”

The words were a little clumsy, but Maura felt herself getting closer anyway. “What do you want to do to me?” she asked.

“I just want to feel you come,” Jane answered in a rush.

“Yeah?” Maura gasped, feeling her belly dip.

“Yeah,” Jane responded, voice raspy, meeting her thrusts. “I want to feel your body against my strong, amazing muscles. I wanna feel you come,” she said again.

It was enough, and Maura’s head was tipping back, her hips grinding up into Jane, moaning loudly. She held onto Jane as her body shuddered, as she arched her back and rolled her hips until she finally slumped back, catching her breath.

Jane stared down at her in awe for a moment before she rolled back over onto her back.

“Thank you,” Maura said, turning toward Jane and stretching her arm across Jane’s torso to grip her forearm.

“Sure,” Jane answered, seemingly unable to find any other words.

“How are you doing?” Maura asked her.

“Huh? I’m fine,” Jane insisted.

“Are you sure?” Maura asked, her hand beginning to stroke a lazy circle across Jane’s abs, which tightened under the attention, “Because I’d be happy to help you get yourself off.” Her fingers slid across the skin under Jane’s waistband.

Jane swallowed, “Help me how?” She raised herself on her elbows, watching Maura’s hand.

In response, Maura unbuckled Jane’s belt, her fingers efficiently unbuttoning and unzipping her jeans, too, and then her hand slid into Jane’s panties. She waited, her fingers barely grazing the mons veneris, watching for Jane’s reaction.

Jane met her eye for a moment, and then shakily nodded. Maura slid her hand further inside, groaning softly as her fingers met wetness and heat. Jane let her upper back and head fall back onto the mattress, exhaling audibly.

Maura watched her face, experimentally moving her fingers. “How do you like to be touched?” she asked.

“I…dunno. I usually use a vibrator,” Jane admitted, sounding sheepish.

“What did you do after our narratophilic phone call?” Maura asked, hoping she wasn’t pushing Jane too hard. She applied light pressure to the area between Jane’s labia majora as she spoke.

Jane choked back a quiet moan. “I…went into the bathroom and took care of myself,” she said quietly, blushing noticeably.

“And how did you touch yourself?’ Maura prompted.

Jane blinked, considering it, “Back and forth…I guess,” she finally said.

Maura began to trace something like an infinity symbol on and around Jane’s clit, “Effective?” she asked, as Jane closed her eyes and tipped back her head, a soft sound escaping her lips.

Jane nodded, but didn’t speak. But the way her hips rose up to meet Maura’s hand communicated something on its own.

Maura ogled Jane’s abdominal muscles and breasts as her whole body began to respond to the way Maura touched her, as her hips chased Maura’s hand. Maura lay beside her, though she really only touched her with her hand, and enjoyed the sight.

“What do you think about, when you touch yourself?” she asked, her voice as sultry as she could make it.

Jane’s jaw clenched, “I don’t know,” she said through her teeth. “You, sometimes,” she admitted with a whimper.

“What am I doing?” Jane just groaned for a moment as Maura picked up the speed of her hand, twitching her fingers back and forth now. But Jane didn’t answer, so Maura changed tactics, “What are you doing to me, in your fantasies?”

Jane moaned aloud now, a desperate sound. “I just think about doing…things to you. Things that make you come,” she said in a rush.

Maura continued touching her, taking note of the way the rhythm of her hips was changing, the way she was nearly panting, the nearly inaudible moans she was attempting to suppress. She was close, Maura thought, so she took a breath. “You make me come,” Maura told her, vulnerable and candid.

Jane bucked against her hand, crying out loudly, then choking back the subsequent moans as she rode out her orgasm against Maura’s hand.

Maura gently withdrew her hand and watched as Jane’s eyes blinked open, and she met Maura’s eye, affection and bewilderment on her face. Maura slung her hand back over Jane’s abdomen, seeking her arm. Jane gripped Maura’s forearm back and lay, staring at the ceiling and collecting her thoughts.

When Jane seemed to have finally relaxed, Maura asked quietly, “Are you ever going to tell me what it is you think about doing to me?”

Jane didn’t answer for a long time, but finally she turned her head to face Maura, though she didn’t quite meet her eye. “It’s…not always really specific,” she said, rushed and nervous. “But I do like to think about, like…” she trailed off, staring past Maura. Maura waited, stroking Jane’s forearm with her thumb as she watched Jane’s throat work, like she was literally trying to force words out of it. “I’m curious about strap-ons,” she finally blurted.

Maura grinned, “Giving, or receiving?” she asked.

“Maura!” Jane blushed, but then answered in a low voice, “Mostly giving.”

Maura melted as she watched Jane struggle to express her desires. “I would certainly be happy to explore that with you, on one condition.”

“What?” Jane asked, hopeful and anxious.

“Admit that we’re in a relationship.”


	6. Up and up we keep on climbing

The fact that Maura words rang true didn’t make them necessarily easier to hear.

Jane found herself completely unable to untangle them and their meaning. Maybe because of the orgasm she’d just had. So she’d asked for some time to understand it, which Maura had granted. And when they left the motel and went back to Maura’s house to heat up one of Angela’s lasagnas for dinner, everything felt normal.

And maybe _that_ was part of the confusion. Everything felt the same, except that they had orgasms together.

But over the next few days, Jane thought about it. Admittedly, she didn’t have a lot of time, because she was working a case that had come in the morning after the motel, but as she got a few hours sleep in her apartment at night, she thought about it as she drifted off.

She loved Maura. That wasn’t new. That had been present for a long time. And it didn’t even necessarily feel like that love was changing. Maura had been the primary person in her life for years.

She was attracted to Maura. That…wasn’t new. It was just that she finally had ways to process it now. She had always been withdrawn about sex, because the thought of being that intimate with someone was off-putting. It wasn’t uncomfortable with Maura. Maura made her feel safe, and in that, Jane had been able to push past enough repression to really understand how attracted she was to Maura. Had been able to admit the filthy little vignettes that passed through her mind as she got herself off. They’d been about Maura for a long time.

It really didn’t seem any different because they’d always spent time together, always trusted each other, always put each other first. And so by Wednesday, Jane had finished putting the pieces together.

She went down to the morgue after checking in with Korsak and Nina. Maura was bent over the body that had been brought in very early that morning. “You were right,” Jane told her.

“About the murder weapon? Yes, I know.”

Jane suppressed a smile, “Well, yes.” She glanced around. No lab techs were even in yet. “But I more meant about our relationship.”

At that, Maura looked up at her, and Jane watched as a slow smile spread over her exhausted features. “Yes, I know,” Maura replied softly.

Jane threw up her hands, “Well, sorry for being late to the party. You never even let me know you were into women, you know,” she accused.

Maura’s eyebrows rose, “For a detective, you sure can be dense sometimes. I’m fairly certain I left you plenty of clues.”

Jane scowled. “Well, I was over there trying to figure out how to conceive of our friends-with-benefits thing, since both of us were straight.” She paused. “I mean, I know I’m not straight _now_.” Even after everything, it felt like a huge admission, and left her breathless for a moment.

“Welcome out,” Maura bent back over the body, examining the wound on his neck. Jane was both relieved and frustrated at the casual response.

“You were right,” Jane said again, “But I’m still processing this, okay? Still trying to figure out what it means.”

“Jane, nothing has really changed. Nothing has to change. Except now we can have sex and publicly acknowledge the fact that we are each others’ primary partners.”

“I know,” Jane muttered, “Just still getting used to it. Maybe once this case is over.”

“Well,” Maura offered, examining the slashed throat. “I can say that the cause of death here is consistent with the same weapon that killed our first two victims.”

Jane grinned. Maura wasn’t quite guessing, but she was offering a premature possibility. “Possible connection, like we thought. Thanks, Maura. Let me know if you find anything else.” Jane turned to go back upstairs.

“Jane,” Maura called. She turned. Maura was gazing at her, and even though she was wearing goggles, Jane could see the way her expression softened. “If we wrap the case by this weekend, will you come over?”

“Sure,” Jane grinned, “Like I won’t be there, anyway.”

Maura smiled back, and Jane headed upstairs.

They wrapped the case by Friday, after Maura found the same material on all three victims that Jane was able to connect to a suspect, then went for celebratory drinks at the Dirty Robber all together afterwards. By 9pm, Jane was trying not to fall asleep in the booth, even though she really hadn’t had that much to drink, so Maura coaxed her up, into a cab, and upstairs into Maura’s bed. Jane barely noticed, because, though she usually slept in the guest bed at Maura’s, they had shared her bed before. All she could really comprehend doing was curling up to Maura and falling asleep, finally.

She woke up when Maura began shifting out from under her arm to get out of bed. Jane tried to hold onto her, but then relented when she realized what was happening. “What’s going on?” she slurred sleepily.

Maura bent over and ran a hand through Jane’s hair. Jane closed her eyes, soothed. “Nothing’s wrong. I just want to go into work for a few hours to ensure all of my information about the case was prepared and filed correctly. You should keep sleeping as long as you need to. I’ll be back this afternoon.”

Jane grinned, “You’re such a nerd,” she mumbled fondly. Only Maura would go into the office on a Saturday just for paperwork.

Maura laughed lowly and kissed Jane’s hairline before disappearing into the bathroom. Jane kept grinning as she sunk back into her pillows. Even that kind of affection wasn’t entirely new, but it felt new enough to warm Jane’s body.

She fell asleep to the sound of the shower running, and didn’t wake back up for another few hours. It was 11am, which startled her. She kicked off Maura’s sheets and found some long pajama pants and a clean t-shirt to pull on, then padded downstairs.

Immediately, she smelled food cooking and realized how hungry she was. She’d slept for a long time. When she was halfway down the stairs, she heard a voice call, “Mornin’, sleepyhead.”

“Hey, Ma,” she called back, looking around as she entered the kitchen, “Maura here?”

Angela glanced over her shoulder, “No, she headed to work about an hour ago. Said she’d be back later.”

“Right,” Jane remembered the conversation. She’d just been hoping Maura would be back already.

“Sit down, I’ll make you something,” Angela offered, already turning to get coffee out of the cupboard.

“Thanks,” Jane sighed, “I’m starving.”

“I’m not surprised. You never eat well when you’re working a case. You never sleep well, either. I’m glad you got some rest.”

Jane rolled her eyes, “You sound like Maura.”

“Well, we both worry about you,” Angela said testily, “You could show us some appreciation once in awhile.”

Jane spread her hands, “I appreciate you!” she insisted, “I _so_ appreciate that you’re making me breakfast right now.” She eyed the stove. “What are you making?”

“Well, I was making myself some spinach and eggs. Maura is so right, I feel so energized after eating that for breakfast.”

“Ugh. Breakfast should never be green,” Jane sniffed, “Unless it’s the milk in the Lucky Charms.”

“I know you’ll only eat the spinach for Maura,” Angela half-complained, “So you get oatmeal.”

“What kind of oatmeal?”

“Steel-cut oats.”

Jane eyed her, “I mean, what flavor?”

“Fresh blueberry.” Angela pulled out the box of blueberries from the fridge to show Jane.

Jane sighed. Angela couldn’t stop her from adding butter and brown sugar. “Alright. Sounds great, Ma.”

Angela did, indeed, try to stop Jane from adding brown sugar and butter. Jane got her to relent by saying she was only going to add half of what she normally did. It was more like 3/4ths, but Angela still seemed satisfied.

After breakfast, Angela headed to the Dirty Robber early, because she had to complete inventory and ordering before starting her shift. Jane let her kiss her cheek without a lot of fuss. She could show appreciation.

So Jane was left with a nearly full pot of coffee and Maura’s TV. She did her best to relax and flipped channels for awhile.

Just after noon, the doorbell rang. Jane answered it cautiously, but it was just the mailman dropping off a somewhat large package addressed to Maura. Jane brought it into the house and, also because she hoped Maura would be home soon, she texted her.

 

**You got a package.**

 

To her satisfaction, Maura replied quickly.

 

**Oh, excellent! Well, it’s for you,**  
**anyway, so open it and take a look. I**  
**want you to choose the ones you like**  
**best. We can send the others back.**

 

Jane raised an eyebrow and, after finding a letter opener on Maura’s desk, sat down on the couch to cut open the box. Excitedly, she lifted the flaps.

“Oh, my God,” she stood up from the couch and backed away.

The box was full of dildos.

She shoved the box flaps back down, but had no idea what to do with the box itself, so she backed away again and grabbed her phone, keeping one eye on the box while she texted Maura.

 

**Why? Why would you let me open that?**  
**My mother could have been looking**  
**over my shoulder!**

 

Jane chewed her lip, still staring at the box.

 

**Why would that be a concern? She**  
**helped me pick some of them out. She**  
**agreed that you probably need one. I**  
**thought you used to have one, but last**  
**time I looked in your closet, I couldn’t**  
**find it. Did you show them to her?**

 

**What?!**

 

**I think I like the purple one best. And I**  
**know you don’t like pink, but that was**  
**the only color they had in stock, and I**  
**thought the length might appeal to**  
**you.**

 

 

**I can’t believe we’re having this**  
**conversation.**

 

Jane was legitimately beginning to worry that she’d somehow missed the fact that Maura was crazy. Or that maybe being in a relationship meant a total lack of discretion for Maura.

 

**Well, I’m sorry if I upset you. I’m**  
**coming home now. We can talk about it**  
**when I get there.**

 

Jane couldn’t even bring herself to answer, or really even move. She just stared at the box of dildos on the sofa until Maura arrived home ten minutes later. She looked at Jane, her expression confused and a little sad. “Where is your mother, anyway?”

“She’s at work, but that’s so not the point,” Jane pointed at her, “What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that I was getting you something nice, that you could have at my house or yours.” Maura folded her arms, “I know you like to try to keep boundaries with your mother, but I really didn’t think getting her input would be a betrayal. It’s just a robe. It doesn’t have to indicate anything about the status of our relationship.”

“A…wait. What?”

“A robe,” Maura repeated calmly, “Were they too risqué for your taste? I tried to get some styles I thought you’d like.” She stared at Jane, whose mouth was hanging open, and then her eyes widened. “Wait. Where’s the box?” Jane pointed at the couch again and Maura rushed over. She lifted the flaps and a hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, my goodness.” She met Jane’s eyes.

In response, all Jane could do was gesticulate at the box wildly with her hands, her mouth pressed together to keep from vocalizing her distress.

“USPS estimated this package wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow!” Maura said, shaking her head, but she had started lifting out the various sex toys and examining them.

The doorbell rang. Jane whipped toward it, then leaped onto the couch and closed the dildo delivery box. Maura cast her a slightly bemused look before moving to answer the door. It was, of course, another, much flatter package, which Maura carried back in, looking like she was barely suppressing hysterics.

She offered the box to Jane, “Open this.”

Jane eyed her, “Are we just not going to talk about the other box?”

“No, of course we will. But I do want you to pick out a robe first. I am attempting to improvise, since the reveal of this package did not happen in the manner I intended.”

Sighing, Jane opened the box and began taking out robes. And smiled, because immediately she could see why Maura liked the purple robe. It was a beautiful color and very soft, though would probably stop above the knee. And the pink robe was, indeed, very long, which Jane did like.

“Try them on,” Maura encouraged as she idly sifted through the contents of the sex toy box.

Jane watched her warily for a moment before unfolding the robes and pulling them on one by one. Maura pushed the dildo box closed and came over to straighten and critique each robe. It was somehow much more endearing than when her mother did the same thing.

Eventually, Jane agreed to keep the purple one at her apartment—because Maura was right, she had finally had to toss her old robe recently—and for Maura to backorder the long, pink robe in blue for Jane to keep at Maura’s. Maura also kept a silky robe for Jane to “borrow” until her blue robe showed up. Jane huffed and complained but Maura insisted, and Jane couldn’t really stop her from buying her three new robes.

Jane excused herself to take a shower while Maura made them some lunch. And in the shower, Jane began to think about the box of dildos that had nearly broken her brain. Now that she wasn’t thinking as much about her mother helping Maura order them or enthusing over the package with her, she began to get intrigued.

So while sitting next to Maura and picking at her tempeh-based BLT, Jane finally said, “So. You ordered a big old box of dildos.”

Maura smirked as she chewed, then dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “Well, you did express an interest in strap-ons. I was merely preparing to help you enact it.”

Jane’s brow furrowed, “Wait. Those were strap-ons? Where were the, uh, straps?”

Maura laughed, “Let’s finish lunch and I’ll show you.” Jane slumped, impatient, and finished tearing apart and eating most of her sandwich. Maura took her time with her own while Jane watched and fidgeted.

After Jane rinsed their dishes and put them in the dishwasher, Maura went over to the couch to grab the box, but Jane took it from her immediately. “Where am I going with this?” she asked.

“Upstairs, to the bedroom,” Maura replied. Jane glanced around the living room, trying to make sure nothing incriminating was left behind, and then followed Maura upstairs. Maura gestured to her bed and Jane placed the box down, then moved to sit on the other side of the bed, her side. Maura opened the box and began to take out the contents, displaying them in a line for Jane to see.

“Now, I wasn’t sure what you were interested in, so I got a few different kinds of harnesses. The Spareparts harnesses come highly recommended,” She set down a pair that looked like a pair of panties and a pair of boxer-briefs, respectively. “I also got a traditional strap-based harness.”

Jane picked up the panties with the hole in the front. “This…looks comfortable.” She’d admittedly never considered how she would wear a strap-on, but she never thought it could be as simple as wearing underwear.

“It is also supposed to provide a great degree of stability for the dildo.” Maura looked at her, abruptly quizzical, “Do you want me to call your dildo anything in particular? Like, your cock, or—”

“No, that’s okay,” Jane interrupted, face aflame, “You don’t have to call it anything.”

“Okay,” Maura nodded acceptance, then began to pull out dildos. “I wasn’t sure what you were looking for, so I bought several varieties. These are the more realistic ones. They’re not quite your skin tone, but I have scrotal sack or no scrotal sack, circumcised and uncircumcised…this one self-lubricates from the tip…” she apparently finally noticed Jane’s horrified expression and stopped. “So, you’re not interested in these?” she clarified.

“No,” Jane deadpanned, “Nope.”

“Fine with me,” Maura replied briskly. “Personally, I find many of the ‘realistic’ dildos are not sized and shaped well for my preference.”

“Moving on,” Jane prompted, trying not to dwell on Maura’s experiences with dildos for fear of never being able to stop thinking about it.

Maura gathered the realistic dildos and set them aside, then started pulling out different ones. “These are some other options. Note that they’re more colorful. I tried to avoid pink, but some that appealed to me only came in that color. Also note that they lack many of the anatomical features you don’t seem invested in, such as the glans, the scrotum, and the superficial dorsal vein.”

Jane wrinkled her nose at Maura’s words, “Thank God for that.” She pointed skeptically at a toy, “Is that glass?”

“Yes. Glass is a great choice for a sexual aid. It’s very easy to clean, and can be warmed or cooled for additional sensory pleasure.”

“Right,” Jane said sarcastically, “And it’s so sturdy, too.” She idly picked up a relatively slim, silicone piece with a flared, but not ridged, head. It was a weird, vague fantasy, because she’d never considered the specifics of what she might wear and how in order to use it on Maura, just that she wanted to. “This doesn’t seem bad,” she offered.

Maura hummed in agreement, “And it has a place to insert a bullet vibrator, if that’s something you want to try.”

Jane thought about it. She did enjoy her vibrator, but she also had been having some really excellent orgasms without it lately. “Maybe sometime,” she said.

Maura grinned eagerly, “Yes, and that brings me to some other selections. These seem like they might not be right for a first experience with strap-ons, but perhaps we might like to try them another time.” She showed Jane a few that were shaped kind of crazy. “The Feeldoe and the Nexus both have favorable reviews. See, you’d insert this end, and the vaginal muscles would hold the toy in place,” Maura held the toy in front of herself to show her.

“I get it,” Jane said quickly, blinking and blushing a little at Maura’s demonstration. “I…like the idea? But yeah, not for the first time. I think I like these for the first time,” she held up the panty-style harness.

“Do you want me to keep these, too?” Maura held up the boxer-brief style, “Because I think they’d look really good on you,” Her eyes drifted to Jane’s thighs in her old, frayed jeans.

“Sure,” Jane agreed, pulse already quickening a little at Maura’s attention. She looked down at the array of toys still on the bed, “Do…you have a preference? I mean, since you’ll be the one…receiving the…dildo.” Nothing Jane said sounded remotely sexy. Again, she was baffled that she’d ever been able to help Maura get off over the phone.

“That’s very considerate of you,” Maura smiled. She picked up a pink one. Jane immediately opened her mouth to protest, but Maura silenced her with direct eye contact. “Hear me out,” she said firmly.

Jane blew out her breath, and with it, her protestations. “Fine.” She waved a hand, impatiently encouraging Maura to speak.

Maura held the dildo up, using the fingers of both hands to display it. “Observe: the Fusion. Its curve is subtle. Its head, not too anatomical. Its length and girth are quite manageable, which, given that it has been some time since I’ve had intercourse, I admit are particularly appealing to me right now.” Maura smiled almost serenely and said, “And, it has this,” and she turned the base of the dildo toward Jane.

Jane stared, “What am I looking at?”

Maura’s finger ran down the ridge on the base, “This. Specially designed to give the wearer,” she caught Jane’s eye, “You, additional pleasure.” She turned it toward herself, “I’ve never tried something like this, so I can’t personally attest to how effective it will be, but it seems well-designed with female anatomy in mind.”

“I, um,” Jane stared, “That seems like a good choice. I guess I can overlook the fact that it’s pink.”

“They were out of the other colors. Your aversion to pink can make you hard to shop for,” she teased.

Jane smirked, “Okay, so…when do we do this?”

“Tonight,” Maura replied.

Jane half-spluttered. It hadn’t even been a question. “Tonight?” she squeaked.

“Sure. Your mother works late.”

“But she went in early,” Jane shook her head, “She might come home early.”

“She never comes home early,” Maura assured her, then shrugged, “I mean, we can wait until tomorrow if you want. That’s when I originally anticipated we would do this.”

Jane’s libido wrestled with her rationality. “I mean…if there was a way to ensure she won’t interrupt…for Christ’s sake, I’m a grown-ass woman, how am I still living my life fearing that my mother will interrupt me during private-time?” Jane threw up her hands in frustration.

Maura chuckled, “Jane, I know your mother’s habits. I know she never cuts her shifts short. And even so, she and I have a system. We have boundaries, and I can ensure she won’t come into the main house.”

“You have a sock-on-the-door policy with my _mother_? Okay, I don’t want to know. I really, really don’t want to know.”

“Don’t think about that. Just know, we will have privacy.”

Jane considered the possibility that her mother might deduce that the signal meant something was happening between them, but decided it was pretty unlikely. Maura had probably displayed the signal for a lot of the evenings they’d spent together as friends, just because she knew Jane would be less tense if her mother made herself scarce. Jane relaxed, and grinned. “Well, in that case…I think I’m free tonight.”

Maura grinned back at her slowly, “Is that so? What about this afternoon?”

Jane felt her heart in her throat. Oh, it could happen _now_. “I…yeah, I think I can cancel my plans…”

“What plans,” Maura asked curiously.

Jane shrugged, “I don’t know. Kinda thought I should maybe take you out before getting in your pants.”

Maura smiled beatifically at her, “I’d love to go out with you. How about tonight?”

Jane frowned, “Tonight? But then…”

Maura smirked and picked up the chosen dildo. “I find it’s more pleasurable to do _this_ first, before consuming rich foods that tend to lead to bloating and fatigue.”

Jane stared, then nodded. “Alright. Yeah, alright.”

Maura gathered the remaining sex toys and put them back in the box, setting it across the room. “Be right back,” she said, and went downstairs briefly. Jane tried to listen, because mostly she wanted to know when Maura would be back. She stared at the panty-style harness and the dildo on Maura’s bedspread. She wasn’t sure if she should touch them yet, or it that would seem too eager.

Maura came back to the bed and picked up both objects. “Do you need me to show you how to assemble the strap-on?”

“No,” Jane said defiantly, “It’s pretty sure I can put the thing through the hole.”

Maura cocked an eyebrow, “How arousing.” She passed the objects to Jane, who easily put it together. And then they stared at each other over Jane’s hands, which were holding a pair of underpants with a silicone dildo sticking out of them.

“Holy shit, are we about to do this?” Jane asked, staring at Maura.

“That depends,” Maura’s lips quirked, “Are we in a relationship?”

“Absolutely,” Jane nodded, “Oh my God, I’m about to fuck my girlfriend,” she muttered aloud.

Maura laughed throatily. “This is typically a third date activity for me; I find requesting oral on the first few produces better results,” Maura disclosed, “Though, I guess we’ve had four sexual experiences together. That’s close enough.”

“We’ve been dating _forever_ ,” Jane realized abruptly. Maura gave her a long, calculating look. “Which of course, you probably already knew,” Jane sighed. She blamed her scrambled brain on the fact that Maura had mentioned oral sex to her and…well. Now she was thinking about when they might do _that_.

“So,” Maura prompted, “Do you want to go put that on so we can have intercourse?”

“Only if you promise never to call it that again.” Jane stood up, still holding the strap-on.

“What shall I call it?”

“I dunno. Boning?”

“Boning. That…doesn’t have the most pleasant connotations. But did you know that many mammals have a baculum, or penis bone?”

“Alright, so we’re definitely not boning,” Jane turned back to Maura from the doorway of her bathroom. “Let’s just say we’re about to do it.”

“Okay. Let’s do it,” Maura grinned.

Jane smirked and closed the door to the bathroom. She kicked off her pants and underwear and stood for a moment, just staring at the strap-on. Willing her brain to catch up to the reality of the situation, because everything about it felt surreal. Then she stepped into the panty-harness and pulled it up her legs, the dildo bobbing awkwardly with each tug.

She turned and confronted the full-length mirror on the back of Maura’s bathroom door. She looked…ridiculous in her t-shirt and strap-on underpants with her long, skinny legs.

She debated just staying in the bathroom, but she wasn’t a fearful person. Oblivious, yes. Repressed, yes. But afraid, no. So she took a deep breath and opened the door, locking eyes with Maura and trying for her normal swagger. The feeling of the dildo bouncing with her steps, though, kind of ruined the moment.

Maura grinned and stepped over to her. “You look great.”

“Really? I feel ridiculous.”

“You look great in anything. And in nothing,” Maura told her, closing the distance between them. In her heels, Maura was almost her height. Jane barely had enough time to react by drawing Maura to her by her hips, and then Maura’s hand was on the back of her head, drawing her in for a kiss.

Jane heard herself hum in surprise and delight at the feel of Maura’s soft mouth on hers. Maura’s other arm was wrapped around Jane’s back, running lightly over her t-shirt. Jane had no idea what to do with her own hands, which merely rested on Maura’s hips as they kissed, little kisses that gradually became deeper, until Jane involuntarily moaned into Maura’s mouth, trying to press them closer together.

The nudge between her legs made Jane glance down and frown. “Sorry. Didn’t realize I was poking you.” As they tried to move closer, the strap-on had pressed against Maura’s hip.

“It’s fine,” Maura kissed her again, and Jane forgot what they were doing once more. Maura had pressed herself as close to one side of Jane as she could, circumventing the protruding strap-on. Jane had finally realized that maybe she should do something with her hands, and ran them up Maura’s sides and back. She’d really never gotten to touch Maura like this, and even through Maura’s blouse, Jane could feel the warmth and softness of her skin. Her fingers tangled in Maura’s hair and, unlike when she’d gripped it before, now she had time to note its texture.

She pulled away, gasping, as Maura’s hip bumped the strap-on again. Maura glanced at her with bright eyes and her hand trailed down to deliberately grasp the strap-on, stroking it so that it would grind subtly against Jane.

Jane frowned. Maura noticed immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“It feels…weird,” Jane said, a bit disappointed.

Maura looked crestfallen for a moment, but then asked, “Do you have it aligned properly?”

“Aligned? Yeah, I…um…” but whatever else Jane planned to say was gone, because one of Maura’s hands was slipping down the front of Jane’s underpants. Jane gasped in a shuddering breath and stared down her body. She couldn’t see much, so she looked at Maura, who was gazing into the distance in concentration. And she could feel Maura’s fingers parting her lower lips. Maura made a pleased sound when she dipped down and touched wetness, an expression of pride on her face. And then her hand was twisting, and Jane felt knuckles awkwardly press into her.

“Hmm…yeah, I think it’s off-center, hold on…” Maura grasped the shaft and twisted slightly, “The ridges should line up with your labia so that this bump…” she nudged the base of the strap-on into Jane, “gives your clit something to rub against.” Her fingers worked in tandem with her other hand to seat the dildo against Jane, and then Maura withdrew her hand from Jane’s harness.

Jane was already feeling overheated. She’d forget to align it properly every time if it put Maura into that inexplicably sexy problem-solving mode. Now Maura was back to subtly stroking, and now, when she pressed into Jane, Jane was getting a little bit of friction. Her mouth parted and she let out a low, breathy sound. She leaned down to kiss Maura again, one hand reaching down now to grasp Maura’s ass, the other threaded into her hair, holding the back of Maura’s head.

They kissed until they were both flushed and glassy-eyed and barely able to catch their breath. And then Jane mumbled, “You should take off your shirt.”

The simple request made Maura laugh softly, “Perhaps you should do it.”

“Take off my shirt, or yours?” Jane asked, but she was already reaching for the hem of Maura’s blouse. She untucked it from her skirt and pulled it over Maura’s head. Maura shook her hair back, smoothing it with one hand, while Jane just stared. She’d seen Maura nearly naked before, of course, but she could appreciate it even more now. She let her eyes roam over soft curves tempered with the muscular definition of a woman who strove to keep fit. One hand reached out to stroke Maura’s abs and hips, relishing her smooth skin.

They were making gradual progress toward Maura’s bed, shedding clothing along the way, but with each article that was removed, they both couldn’t help but act as if the newly-exposed skin was a brand-new exhibit. They couldn’t help but drink each other in as they undressed each other. For Jane, at least, it was simply because she was _allowed_ now. She didn’t have to feign disinterest, she didn’t have to pretend that observing Maura wasn’t every bit as arousing as Maura apparently found observing her.

And, between removing clothes and leering, they couldn’t stop kissing each other, which just got more stimulating as more bare skin touched.

Maura sat on the bed while Jane stood over her, still kissing, and then reached down to remove the last article of clothing between them besides the strap-on—Maura’s panties. Jane bent down to take her time sliding them down Maura’s legs. Her heart hammered. She ran her hands up Maura’s legs as she stood back up and just looked at her, nude and beautiful.

Maura pulled her down for another kiss, then began backing up toward the pillows on her bed. Jane crawled after her, wanting to press their bodies together, but the weight of the strap-on reminded her of its presence, and she instead straddled Maura’s thighs and leaned over her to kiss her more. She kissed her neck and her mouth traveled lower, kissing just above her breasts.

Jane paused there for a moment and glanced up to meet Maura’s eyes. “Is there such a thing as breast worship?” she asked, “Because…that’s all I want to do when I look at these.”

Maura laughed. “There is definitely such a thing, and—” her sentence was cut off by Jane’s tongue swiping over a nipple. She grasped a fistful of Jane’s hair as Jane continue to put her mouth all over her breasts, hand assisting. Jane took her time, nuzzling between them, kissing everywhere, capturing stiff nipples with her teeth, until the grip on her hair was getting harder, and Maura’s breaths came fast. She looked up, and Maura’s eyes were dark and she was flushed.

Jane lifted herself to kiss Maura, now, and Maura’s hands immediately gravitated toward Jane’s breasts. Jane moaned into Maura’s mouth at the first gentle caress. She shifted her body so that she was more beside Maura; Maura kept touching her breasts, and Jane’s hand began trailing down Maura’s body until it reached her hips, where Jane stopped, abruptly nervous.

Maura noticed. “Are you okay?” she asked breathlessly between kisses.

“Just…not sure how you want me to touch you.” She barely knew how to touch _herself_.

In answer, Maura took her hand and guided it lower. Jane gasped, burying her face in Maura’s neck at the first touch of wetness on her fingers. Maura helped her find her clit and then set Jane’s hand on a course, circling gently. “Yesss, very effective.” Maura groaned. Jane lifted her head to watch the way Maura’s eyes fluttered shut, and then she couldn’t help but kiss her again.

They kissed, while Jane’s hand continued moving. A murmur of “You should touch me inside,” made Jane gasp again and, carefully, she pressed her fingers down until she was sliding one inside. She couldn’t breathe for a moment. The sensation was overwhelming. When Maura whispered a request for another finger, Jane forgot to breathe for so long that her vision spotted.

And finally, Maura nudged at Jane’s hip with her hand, urging her to get between Maura’s legs. Jane awkwardly knelt there and stared down at the pink silicone and at Maura, glistening, open.

“I, uh…I don’t want to say how do I do this, but…how do I do this?”

“Well,” Maura said, “The angle of penetration in this position is really not ideal for the receiving partner. I’m sure we could perform in this position if it’s important to your fantasy, but otherwise, would you be open to, perhaps, having me on top? It really is a much better position for generating the friction and stimulation needed to achieve orgasm. And we could keep kissing.”

Jane blinked. She’d defaulted to missionary mostly because it was familiar, but she certainly wasn’t invested in it. She thought about having Maura on top of her and, “Yes,” she agreed immediately, “Let’s try that.”

Maura urged her to roll over and settled over Jane’s stomach for a moment, long enough to press her cleavage against Jane’s face and then kiss her. While Jane struggled to collect her thoughts again, Maura reached over for her bedside table, where she shuffled items around before producing a small bottle of lube. She smiled. “As you are aware, I’m very wet,” she ground down subtly on Jane’s abs to emphasize her point, “But this? Is very dry.” She reached behind her and stroked the strap-on, and Jane’s eyes rolled back as the base rubbed against her clit.

Jane nodded, “Lube is fine. I’m not, like, fantasizing about _hurting_ you with this. I want you to come. Whatever you need.”

Maura grinned and Jane felt her stroke the strap-on again, presumably now with a lubricated palm, and gently pressed the base into Jane and watched her react. But she didn’t waste a lot of time teasing and before long, wiped off her hand with a tissue and proceeded to position herself above Jane’s hips.

“What do I do?” Jane asked.

“Just…stay still, for now,” Maura murmured. She reached down and steadied the tip with her hand. Jane watched her align the tip with her entrance and then sank down, just a bit. Jane whimpered, and Maura met her eyes, her own bright and dark and heavy-lidded with arousal.

They stared into each others’ eyes as Maura’s hips shifted and she lowered herself, and Jane watched the way her eyes rolled back and fluttered shut as she felt Maura sink down fully onto the strap-on. And then her own eyes fell shut as she felt the jolt, much stronger now, of friction on her clit.

Maura settled, for a moment, then rose and sank back down. Jane groaned again, partly from sensation, and partly because she was watching, this time, as the strap-on slid in and out of Maura. A few slow repetitions of this, and Maura was smirking. “How does it feel?” she asked.

Jane felt like she was blushing. “It’s…really nice,” she said lamely. Maura leaned back a little, continuing to steadily ride Jane, grinding into her lap on the downstrokes. She sighed softly. Jane watched as her face relaxed into pleasure as she began to find a rhythm, watched the way her breasts moved with each stroke, watched the strap-on disappear inside of her.

And then, Maura’s weight shifted forward again, and she braced herself against Jane’s ribs and abs as she began to move a little faster. Jane watched her, and couldn’t help but meet her thrusts this time, Maura moaned softly.

“This okay?” Jane asked, meeting her motions a little more deliberately.

“Yes,” Maura murmured, and it was followed by a soft, “Fuck, yes.”

“Good,” Jane replied a little breathlessly, “Because this feel _really_ good.”

“I can tell,” Maura smirked at her again, and watched her for several long seconds as Jane shut her eyes and focused on moving with Maura, chasing the friction she craved.

Maura rode her, occasionally pausing to just let Jane thrust up into her, but mostly meeting her, circling her hips down to press into Jane. Her hands drifted up to Jane’s breasts, stroking them gently with her fingers, rolling her nipples. And then Maura was leaning over and putting her mouth on them. Jane cursed, thrusting a little harder, and Maura moaned around Jane’s nipple.

And when Maura settled back, Jane decided she felt too far from Maura. She sat up, gripping Maura’s lower back to stabilize them both. Maura gasped and held onto Jane’s shoulders, and Jane nearly purred at the feeling of Maura’s warm, soft skin. She pressed her face between Maura’s breasts, kissing her way up to Maura’s neck, then meeting her lips. And she held Maura’s hips as she moved, grinding down into Jane’s lap. The angle was different; Jane wasn’t getting quite as much stimulation. But as Maura grabbed fistfuls of hair and ran her nails down Jane’s back, well…it was worth it.

They held each other, kissing, as Maura moved. Jane pressed her hands against her back and shoulders, enjoying her skin, and brushed her hair away from her face. Maura panted and groaned in her ear as Jane touched her breasts, Jane shivered as Maura grabbed her hair and tugged gently, radiating pleasure through her body. But then Maura’s hand was moving between their bodies. Jane looked down and saw Maura was reaching between her legs, circling her clit.

Jane lay back down, giving Maura more space to work with, and grasped Maura’s hips, watching her. Jane could thrust back against her now, and she whimpered again at the sensation, and at the sight of Maura’s hand moving over her clit.

“You look amazing,” Jane whispered, as Maura arched her back, fingers moving with more purpose, then circled her hips down to meet Jane’s.

“So do you,” Maura murmured, her other hand spreading over Jane’s abs as they worked. Jane blushed, knowing her hair was wild and she was probably sweating.

Jane moved faster, which made Maura moan deeply, but she was mostly chasing her own pleasure, because each time their hips met, the sensations got stronger. Jane quickened her pace, shallow, rapid thrusts meeting Maura’s movements. Maura was watching her intently, one hand still moving over her clit, her other hand trailing up to Jane’s breast again.

“You feel so good,” Maura gasped, tipping her head back and moaning. Jane’s eyes trailed down Maura’s body, from her parted lips to her long neck, to the movements of her incredible breasts, the way the muscles of her stomach flexed with the roll of her hips, to where her fingers moved, just above where Jane was thrusting in and out of her. “You’re so sexy,” Maura’s voice rose in pitch, little whimpers escaping her lips, and then Jane felt the dip in her stomach.

She held Maura’s hips as she thrust up into her, holding steady as her orgasm convulsed through her. Barely in control of her body, she repeated those long, deep thrusts with each wave of her orgasm, panting and moaning curses and incoherent sounds. She heard Maura’s moans of encouragement, as Jane’s orgasm rolled through her for what felt like a very long time.

She settled back for a moment, but then opened her eyes. Maura was still on top of her, still touching herself, staring at her with wide, awed eyes. Jane attempted to pick back up their previous rhythm, swallowing the urge to apologize for coming already.

“That was…” Maura moaned, trying to collect her thoughts, “so sexy,” she murmured.

“Yeah?” Jane asked, picking up her pace.

“Yeah,” Maura panted. She touched herself for a little longer, then said softly, “I’m _so_ close, but…I’m not sure if I’ll get there in this position. Can we try another?”

“Of course,” Jane said quickly, “Whatever you need.”

Maura lifted herself off of the strap-on with a shiver and a whimper. Jane sat up, leaning over to kiss her. The kisses distracted them both for about half a minute until Maura pulled away and murmured, “I’d like to try you taking me from behind.” She settled on her knees, and Jane took in the curve of her hips and ass and the muscles of her back, and for a long moment, she could do nothing but stare. Until Maura looked over her shoulder coyly, “Jane,” she prompted gently.

Jane blinked and moved, running her nails lightly down Maura’s sides and hips as she settled behind her, but stopped. “You should probably…” she trailed off.

“Of course,” Maura agreed, and bent over further, bracing herself on her left forearm while her right reached between her legs to guide the tip of the strap-on into herself. Jane watched as it pressed into her, just a little, and then as Maura pushed back against it until abruptly, Jane’s hips met her skin. Maura groaned softly and Jane held herself there, gripping Maura’s hips and breathing with her, watching the way her body moved as she caught her breath.

And then Maura began to move, and Jane attempted to match her rhythm. But she really didn’t need to do much, with the way Maura rocked into and away from her, steadily and deliberately; she just enjoyed the friction on her clit, but set it aside mentally, and focused on Maura. Jane ran her hands over Maura’s back, savoring the feel of her soft skin and toned muscles, and then settled her hands once again on Maura’s hips, holding her as they met one another’s thrusts.

Jane realized, then, that with Maura holding herself up, she didn’t have a free hand to touch herself. So, somewhat nervously, Jane reached around Maura’s hip. She spread her hand over Maura’s stomach and asked softly, “Do you want me to touch you?”

“Yes, please,” Maura answered, and the sound was almost a hiss.

Jane bent forward and moved her hand lower, exploring with her fingers, and it was easy to find Maura’s clit. She circled it as Maura rocked against her as she held steady. She listened as Maura’s moans began to increase in intensity, and kissed her back during the moments she was the closest to being still.

But before too long, Maura was leaning forward, bracing herself on her left arm again, and then her own hand was reaching between her legs. Jane settled back and held Maura hips, eager to be able to match her movements again, and to have a little more direct stimulation on her clit. Maura’s thrusts were becoming jerkier, a bit more forceful, as Jane drove into her, struggling to keep up with her arrhythmic pace. Maura’s moans seemed to be reaching a crescendo, until, abruptly, she was silent. She pressed back into Jane and held herself there, and then a stuttering, gasping moan escaped her. Her hips began rolling, and then she slowly sank forward, face-first into her pillows. Jane braced herself and came down with her, keeping the strap-on inside. The rest of Maura’s moans, really more like screams, were muffled in the pillows, and all Jane could feel was Maura's body shuddering and trembling beneath her as she came.

There were a few times when Jane thought Maura might be finished, but then another moan would erupt from her, and a fresh shiver would overtake her and set her body in a full tremble once again. But when it finally seemed to abate, Jane reached to try to brush Maura’s hair away from her face. Maura turned her head, gasping for breath, her eyes glassy as they met Jane’s. “You okay?” Jane asked, half-concerned and half-amused, but mostly, really damn proud of herself.

“I’ve never come quite like that in this position,” Maura panted. She began shifting, and Jane lifted herself off of Maura, pulling out gently. That sent a fresh wave of shivers and another moan through Maura, and Jane reached for her, holding her through the aftershock.

When Maura seemed able to move again, she turned toward Jane and kissed her. Jane held her face gently as they kissed languidly, basking together. She pulled away, kissed Maura’s nose, and asked, “So, about that date…”

“We should just order in,” Maura sighed, “I don’t know if I have the energy to leave this bed.”

Jane chuckled, “That sounds good to me.”

“But I’m holding you to that date,” Maura raised her eyebrows.

“Oh, please. Like we don’t constantly go on dates.”

Maura smiled at her and rested her head on Jane’s shoulder. Jane stroked her hair and wondered when she might get to take off the strap-on, but mostly, she just relaxed, awash in the post-coital chemical bliss she was sure Maura was currently naming the components of in her head.


	7. Staring at the stars

Maura wasn’t entirely sure which date to consider their first anniversary. Jane seemed content to settle on the day that she came to Maura and agreed that they were, indeed, in a relationship, but for Maura, it was a bit murkier than that. As Jane had said, they really had been dating for years; they’d had a romantic friendship and an uncanny connection for a long time. But Maura supposed it wasn’t completely honest to upgrade their relationship to that length of time if they weren’t entirely aware of what was happening.

Still, Maura had felt like there was something there for awhile, but she supposed for her, the turning point had been the muscle worship scene. That was the moment she felt they might be moving toward something unambiguous and acknowledged.

That was the moment she became certain that Jane felt it, too, even if she allowed it to remain in a nebulous state.

So with that date in mind, Maura planned ahead, wanting to do something special for Jane.

She could tell that Jane was intrigued when Maura told her she wanted to take her somewhere particular that weekend. She hovered over Maura neurotically that week, trying to prod her into revealing something, but Maura held firm, refused to answer any questions, and deflected as much as possible. Still, she had a new appreciation for Jane’s talents in the interrogation room. Jane was a woman of many talents in many rooms, Maura thought wryly.

Jane remained fixated on discovering Maura’s plans up until they were in the car on their way to the location itself. It was then that Jane, recognizing the route, guessed that they were heading to Fenway. This was somewhere Maura had been careful to avoid going with Jane before, encouraging it as familial bonding time for the Rizzoli siblings. It was gratifying to see Jane, beaming and delighted, about their first trip to Fenway together.

“And you got us tickets to a game against the Yankees! This is great, Maura! We’re having a great season and I can’t wait to be there when we crush them tonight!” Jane was enthusing the entire rest of the way there. Maura hadn’t really considered which team was visiting, but she was glad that Jane was excited.

When they got there, they were directed to some elevators Jane had clearly never used before. Her eyes widened when she realized that she was certainly not sitting in the nosebleed section this time. “Where are we going?” she hissed.

Maura smiled and revealed, finally, “We have our own private skybox.”

“Maura!” Jane stared at her, guilt clearly already slicing through her euphoria.

“Please accept my gift graciously, Jane,” Maura admonished gently. She watched the struggle on Jane’s face the rest of the way to the skybox itself, but when Jane stepped inside and saw nachos and hotdogs on catering trays and several Blue Moons chilling in a bucket of ice, her worry transformed into joy once again. She turned to Maura, wrapping her in a hug and kissing her. “Thank you,” she said sincerely.

“You’re welcome.”

“Man, Frankie and Tommy are gonna be so jealous,” Jane went over to the window to stare down out at the field and the people moving throughout the stadium.

And for awhile, Maura was content to let Jane enjoy the experience. She ate, she drank beer, she watched the game and hollered at the players. The caterers checked on them a few times and about midway through the game, Maura thanked them, tipped them, and told them they would be fine for the rest of the game.

The only issue was, the Red Sox were losing.

In some ways, it was interesting to Maura, because Jane was just as animated as during their early lead, but the emotional shift in her and much of the rest of the audience was palpable.

“Aw, come on! He was safe!” Jane shouted at the field as the collective groan rose up. She slumped down into her seat at the skybox window bar, defeated. “We’ll never make a comeback at this rate,” she muttered.

Maura studied her, “I’m sorry the game is a disappointment.”

Jane gave her a half-smile, “It’s really not. This is the best game I’ve ever seen, because I’m up here with you.” She leaned in to kiss Maura.

“Good,” Maura told her, “Because I just want to make your dreams come true.”

“Maura…” Jane said quietly, looking like she didn’t quite want to smile at something so corny.

Maura smirked, “All your dreams and your fantasies…” she said softly, running her nails up Jane’s thigh.

Jane stared down and blinked, then looked at Maura uncertainly, “Are you…what are you saying?”

“I’m just wondering if I can perhaps distract you somewhat from your fan misery,” Maura said matter-of-factly, but she tried to put a hint of seduction in her tone. As Jane stared at her, hopeful but uncertain, Maura elaborated, “I know you’ve always wanted to have sex at Fenway, and mostly, I just want to make that happen for you.”

“I…oh my God,” Jane shook her head, laughing softly. She straightened and turned to Maura, “I forgot I even told you that. It’s…not completely true. I was just trying to give you an impossible scenario so that we could stop talking about my fantasies.”

“Oh,” Maura sat back, disappointed, but then she shrugged, “Well, I’m still happy I could give you this experience.”

“Hold on,” Jane said quickly, “Just because I haven’t specifically fantasized about it doesn’t mean I don’t totally want to do it.” Her eyes dropped. Even a year later, Jane could still be endearingly shy about sex.

“Oh,” Maura replied again, but this time the lilt in her voice betrayed her interest. She ran her nails up Jane’s thigh again, kneading the muscles on her way back down.

Jane leaned in to kiss Maura, and Maura was startled at the intensity of it. Jane reached over, grasping the back of Maura’s head, her hand trailing down rapidly to cup Maura’s breast. The first movement of her hand was firm enough to untuck Maura’s blouse from her slacks. Maura whimpered involuntarily between kisses, and Jane hummed her approval and palmed Maura’s breast again.

By the time their lips parted, Maura already felt distinctly rumpled and aquiver with arousal. She reached for Jane, sliding down off her bar stool to get closer to her, hands running over Jane’s back, then slipping under her t-shirt. She spread her hands over Jane’s skin, trailing them around to her abs. Jane’s own hand, then, reached down and grasped Maura’s ass, pulling her closer, between Jane’s knees. Maura moved her hands up to Jane’s breasts, seeking her nipples beneath her bra to pinch them, just hard enough to make Jane gasp.

Jane began feeling the waistband of Maura’s pants, clearly searching for a zipper, but Maura touched her hands to stop them. Jane looked up uncertainly, but Maura smiled coyly, “Not yet.”

Jane nodded, but then her eyebrows rose as she looked down to realize that Maura was unbuttoning her jeans. As she dropped down from the bar stool long enough to let her pants slide down her legs and step out of them, she said lightly, “So not yet for you, but it’s time for me?”

“Yes,” Maura said firmly, “Now, watch the game. That’s what we’re here for.” She turned Jane bodily to face the window out to the field, and positioned herself behind her. She pressed herself flush against Jane’s back, wrapping her arms around her, seeking the skin beneath her shirt again. She took her time, roaming her hands all over Jane’s abdominal muscles and grazing just under her breasts, while rolling her hips against Jane’s ass. Maura could see the tension building in Jane’s body, from the way all the muscles of her arms tightened as she gripped the bar.

When Maura finally touched Jane’s breasts again, Jane gasped, back arching, grinding back into Maura. Maura rolled her hips in response, fingers seeking Jane’s nipples.

A rumble of excitement started up from the crowd as Maura gently pinched Jane’s nipples. “What’s happening?” she asked.

She heard Jane gulp, “I’m not sure…a hit…and…we got a run,” she said breathily, and even the excitement in her voice was subdued. She reached back to hold Maura in place against her. Maura continued to grind against Jane, fondling her breasts through her bra, until she had to catch her breath a little. She allowed her hands to trail lower. “What about now?” Maura asked as a swell of music and applause filled the stadium.

“A walk.” Maura hummed in response as her hands slid lower, dipping into Jane’s panties. Jane’s head tipped back and she groaned at the first touch of Maura’s fingers, “Fuck, yes,” she got out. Maura moved her fingers gently just above Jane’s clit, knowing the indirect stimulation would drive her crazy. Indeed, Jane was rolling her hips, trying to make Maura touch her lower. Maura teased until she whimpered, then swiped past her clit a few times before moving lower, pressing just her fingertips inside Jane.

Jane was almost whining by the time Maura removed her hand from her panties. There was another particularly noticeable swell of music, and a rumble from the crowd. “Well?” she asked.

It took Jane a moment to figure out what Maura was asking, and Maura waited patiently, hands resting on Jane’s hips. “Third out. So we’re taking the field for the top of the ninth,” Jane said hazily.

“Ah,” Maura began to pull Jane’s panties down her legs. Jane stepped out of them once they were off and Maura pulled her hips back, forcing her to lean more on the bar. She ran her hands down Jane’s back and hips, stopping to massage her gluteus muscles. Jane dropped her head onto the bar with a light moan, which crescendoed into a much louder one as Maura slid two fingers into her from behind.

Jane’s back arched and her hips pushed back, “Oh my God,” she said, her voice guttural.

Maura moved forward a little so she could slip her hand into Jane’s shirt to touch her breasts also, fingers curling inside her. “You like my fingers in you, with all those people out there, don’t you?”

Jane moaned something incoherent, but she picked up her head to look out over the stadium, which was what Maura wanted. “They can’t see us, can they?”

“What’s there to see? Everything is happening beneath the bar,” Maura thrust her fingers, hard, to emphasize her point. Jane moaned, a staccato rhythm, with each press of Maura’s fingers. “You’re so wet,” she said softly, “You love getting fucked at Fenway.” A year’s worth of narratophilic experience with Jane gave Maura enough evidence to be able to predict what would be effective with good accuracy, and the feel of Jane clenching around her fingers was proof of her success.

“I do,” Jane admitted lowly, “Very effective.” Her hips rocked with Maura’s hand.

Maura pressed into her as cheers rose. “So?”

“First out,” Jane reported distractedly, and Maura pressed her fingers in and curled them, holding there for a few seconds. Jane’s legs trembled, and then Maura kept moving her hand.

When she pulled her fingers out several moments later, Jane whimpered. Maura encouraged her to stand back up straight. Jane watched her, looking flushed and frustrated, but then her eyes widened as she realized Maura had kicked off her heels was getting on her knees under the bar. She tipped back her head and let out a moaning curse at the first touch of Maura’s mouth.

Maura, eager to draw out the experience, teased a bit with her mouth, too. She pressed her mouth all over Jane’s labia, dipped her tongue just inside Jane’s entrance, and generally put her tongue and teeth and lips anywhere but on Jane’s clitoris. Jane was practically humping her face in desperation when Maura heard the crowd react to something. She squeezed Jane’s thigh, and then poked the same spot when Jane didn’t respond. Jane looked down at her, panting, and Maura raised an eyebrow. “Oh,” Jane said, fluttering her eyes and squinting at the field, “Bases are loaded.”

Maura responded by pressing her tongue directly onto Jane’s clit. She held it in place with her lips and began flicking her tongue in earnest. Jane’s hips were rolling, and a steady stream of curses and encouragement were coming from her lips, and her hand held Maura firmly by the hair.

The crowd absolutely erupted, then, and Maura squeezed Jane’s thigh. “Double play,” was all Jane managed, and then her entire body seemed to arch, the apex right where Maura’s mouth worked. Jane’s moan was so loud, Maura thought for sure someone would hear them, and then she was bucking against Maura’s face, as Maura struggled to keep her tongue moving.

Finally, Jane slumped against the bar, and Maura settled back on her heels, wiping at the corners of her mouth with a thumb. Jane dropped to the ground and kissed her, wordlessly, and then Maura held her on the floor for a few minutes.

Finally, Maura nudged her, “Come on. Let’s see if the Sox can utilize their home field advantage to win.”

Jane looked at her and a slow smile spread over her face. “You _have_ been listening to me about baseball all these years.” She reached down to help Maura to her feet, ensuring she ducked out from under the bar before rising.

Maura kissed her once they were both vertical again. “Happy anniversary.”

“Maura! I didn’t realize…wait. That’s not until next month.”

Maura just laughed, kissed Jane again, and handed her her underwear.

The best years of her life had always been with Jane, and she knew they would only keep getting better, as they continued to share their lives together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Titles from Passion Pit, "Little Secrets."


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